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ex Libris 


Fulton Oursler 































CARD-SHARPERS 


THEIR TRICKS EXPOSED, OR THE 
ART OF ALWAYS WINNING 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

ROBERT-HOUDIN 


WILLIAM J. HILLIAR 


WITH EXP LAN A TOR V DIAGRAMS 



CHICAGO 

FREDERICK J. DRAKE c2r> CO. 

PUBLISHERS 












lois 










PREFACE. 


On many occasions when I have been hon¬ 
ored by the bench by being consulted as an 
expert in trials for cheating, I have been fre¬ 
quently impressed by the fact that the want of 
knowledge of the subject has been an impediment 
in the path of the judge. How, indeed, could he 
be expected to understand the subtle schemes of 
the professional sharper? Row put his finger on 
the point in question, when he knows nothing of 
the rascal’s cunning maneuvers? 

By a singular contradiction to the ordinary 
course of justice, while the offender, armed with 
tricks and audacity, is strong, the judge is prac¬ 
tically without defense and helplessly weak. 

Devoted for a part of my life to the study of 
conjuring, and having given my time to the amuse¬ 
ment of the public, I am of opinion that the time 
has arrived to return to my supporters, who have 
honored me with their applause, a not equivocal 
mark of my gratitude in devoting my leisure to 
their service. 

I have therefore written this work, the object of 
which may be summed up in this self-evident 
truth: “Enlighten the dupes and there will be no 
more cheats.” 

But is it sufficient that a truth be uncontestable 
for it to be uncontested? I do not believe it; and, 
to prove it, I myself advance to meet a probable 
objection. 

In unveiling the tricks of card-sharpers, do not 
you fear to supply certain unfortunate players 
with the skill to correct the rigors of fortune? 

I might content myself by replying that in mak- 


PREFACE. 


ing public the following revelations, I am acting 
on principles long since firmly established by the 
press and public writers generally. Nevertheless, 
to respond more directly to the objection I have 
stated, I will add that my exposures of trickery 
and tricks, although quite sufficient to put the pub¬ 
lic on their guard, are not enough for those desir¬ 
ous of executing them. 

Suppose, for instance, that I had not taken that 
precaution, what would be the result? Why, that 
for one already half-perverted person who might 
utilize my culpable principles, thousands of dupes 
would by taking warning be protected. 

But if by these exposures bad instincts are awak¬ 
ened, what are we to say of the numberless books 
on duelling, where the art of killing his fellow- 
man is methodically taught? 

Should not we fear that the principles inculcated 
in such books may lead to criminal actions ? 

I have myself an excellent opinion of the re¬ 
spectable classes, and hope that the reading of my 
book will inspire no thought beyond that of guard¬ 
ing themselves against the tricks of sharpers. 

Every one then in taking his part at cards, 
strong in the information I have imparted, will 
read to his profit the line of Virgil: 

Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes * 

* I dread even a present from a Greek. 


PUBLISHER’S NOTE. 

Attention is called to the use of the term Knave 
instead of Jack. There being no authority for 
either, I adhere to the word Knave, for it is the 
term universally used by the French. — Robert - 
Boudin. 



Contents. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

PREFACE . 3 

A DANGEROUS TEACHER .... 5 

I. -THE MODERN GREEKS.14 

II. -THE GREEK OF THE FASHIONABLE WORLD . 19 

III. -THE GREEK OF THE MIDDLE CLASS . . 22 

IV. -THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL . 27 

V. -A GREEK CAUGHT IN THE ACT ... 36 

VT.-THE GAMBLER RAYMOND AND HIS INFAL¬ 
LIBLE SYSTEM ..... 42 

VII.-INSTRUCTIVE HISTORY OF A GREEK . . 54 

VIII.-ILLEGAL GAMBLING HELLS-ROBBERS AND 

ROBBED.60 

IX.-SECRET GAMBLING HELLS .... 67 

X.-BLEEDING THE DOCTOR . . . . 74 

XI. -THE PASTE RING.79 

XII. —AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH .... 92 

Part II. 

THE METHOD.113 

INTRODUCTION.114 

I.-THE FALSE CUT.115 

H.-DESTROYING THE CUT . . . .117 

III. -THE PASS STROKE.119 

IV. -THE JUMP.121 

V.-THE BIG CARD.122 

VI. -THE BRIDGE.123 

VII.-DRAWING THE CARD.125 

VIII.-WITHDRAWING CARDS .... 128 

IX.-PLACING THE CARDS.130 

X. -SEEING THE CARD.131 

XI. —CHANGING THE PACKS .... 132 

XII. -THE BOX UNDER THE CUFF . . . 135 

XIII. -FALSE SHUFFLE.136 

(a) THE CLASSIFIED SHUFFLE . . 136 

(b) THE PARTIAL SHUFFLE . . 137 










4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

(c) THE FAN.137 

(d) THE SWALLOW'S TAIL . . 138 

XIV.-CUT CARDS ..139 

XV.-MARKED CARDS.141 

XVI. CARDS THAT STICK OR SLIP . . 142 

XVII.-CARDS NOT CUT ON THE SQUARE . 143 

XVIII.-PRICKED CARDS.144 

XIX.-CARDS WITH MARKED EDGES . . 145 

XX.-CARDS WITH BENT CORNERS . . 146 

XXI.-CARDS WITH DESIGNS AT BACK . . 147 

XXII.—SPOTTING THE BACKS OF CARDS . 148 

XXIII.-THE CHAPLET.153 

XXIV. -THE MARKING RING .... 156 

XXV. -THE SNUFF-BOX.158 

XXVI.-APPLICATION OF THE PRECEDING 

PRINCIPLES.159 

XXVII.-TRICK AT PIQUET . . . .161 

( a ) .161 

( b ) .162 

(c) SUBTRACTION AND SUBSTITU¬ 

TION .165 

XXVIII.-TRICK AT ECARTE . . . .166 

XXIX.-LANSQUENET-CONCEALED CARDS . 169 

XXX.-OBSERVATION ON GAMES FOR FOUR 

PLAYERS.171 

XXXI.-AMUSING TRICKERIES .... 173 

XXXII.—PLEASANT GAME OF ECARTE . . 175 
XXXIII.—TRICK AT ECARTE . . . .178 

XXXIV.-ANOTHER TRICK AT ECARTE . . 179 

XXXV.-BACCARAT.181 

XXXVI.-WHIST.182 

XXXVII— BOUILLOTTE.184 

XXXVIII.-BEZIQUE.186 




CARD-SHARPERS, 

Their Tricks Exposed. 


A DANGEROUS TEACHER. 

Whatever price the reader may think the ex¬ 
posure of the following tricks may be worth, he 
certainly will never pay as dearly for their knowl¬ 
edge as I have done. You will easily understand 
that I have not been able to draw from my own 
brain all the ruses and rascalities of which the art 
of the sharper and cheat is composed. I have 
therefore drawn them one by one from the cheats 
themselves and at times divined them. 

My researches have been both difficult and dan. 
gerous; difficult because sharpers do not readily 
allow one to discover a trick on which their living 
depends; dangerous because inquiries among such 
people may lead to serious danger. The following 
fact proves it: 

When I was a conjurer in the bud I often visited, 
as I have related in my ‘ ‘ Confidences, ’ ’ a maker of 
instruments used by conjurers named Father 
Roujol, in the hope of meeting there some master 
or even amateur of the art. 

Roujol had taken a liking to me; he was aware 
of my passion, and found pleasure in furnishing 
me with occasions of gaining instruction. 

One day he mentioned a man named Elias Haus- 
heer, whom he had met in a cafe. That man, he 
said, possessed wonderful ability; but, from a few 
words dropped by my friend, I gathered that his 



6 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


skill served less to amuse the public than to correct 
the chances of fortune at cards. 

It mattered little to me whether he was a con¬ 
jurer or a cheat. He was very clever, and that 
was enough for me. Besides, in either case, I hoped 
to extract useful information. I thanked my old 
friend for his intelligence, and at about ten o ’clock 
next morning I made up my mind to visit M. 
Hausheer. 

As I was about to start a thought delayed me. 

I was then known only as a mechanic, and I 
feared that title would not be sufficient introduc¬ 
tion. 

I had an idea. Recently I had made a mechanical 
bird that sang and flew from a snuffbox. I thought 
it—which, indeed, was very valuable—would speak 
in my favor. I took it with me. 

More confident now in the success of my attempt, 
I walked toward Golden Crown Street, where dwelt 
the important personage in question. I do not use 
the words “important personage” in an ironical 
sense, because in my passion for conjuring of all 
kinds, which amounted to monomania, my fancy 
represented M. Hausheer as possessing a fortune 
and personal advantages in proportion to his great 
ability. 

I did not know Golden Crown Street, and was 
surprised on reaching it with its miserable appear¬ 
ance ; but without dwelling on this first deception 
of my hopes, I advanced to No. 8. A narrow, dirty, 
damp alley led to the house, to which I boldly ad¬ 
vanced. 

“M. Hausheer?” I inquired, striking one of the 
Smoky panels of a sort of glass box, above which 
was written the word ‘ ‘ Porter. ’ ’ 

A man with a gray beard opened a little window; 


A DANGEROUS TEACHER. 7 

he held a shoemaker’s apron in one hand and a 
shoe in the other. 

“What do you want?” he inquired, with a strong 
German accent. 

“M. Hausheer,” I replied. 

“Don’t know him; only Germans live in my 
house,” he replied, gruffly. 

But, ’ ’ I replied, ‘ ‘ I think the name I mentioned 
‘is German; look at that,” and I presented him the 
name and address which my old friend had written 
on a card. 

The artist in shoes put on his glasses, and after 
reading the name said: 

‘ ‘ Ah, M. Hhhaoushheer, ’ ’ trebling the aspiration 
of the h in order to give me a lesson in German pro¬ 
nunciation. “Well, well, the third floor.” 

Thus instructed, I soon reached the third floor, 
and on arriving at a very gloomy passage I knocked 
at a door behind which I heard a great noise. 

A woman whose age was doubtful, by reason of 
her untidy and old-fashioned dress, opened the door 
as little as possible. 

“M. Hhhaoushheer ? ”1 inquired, remembering 
the lesson of the man with the leather apron. 

“Go right to the door, there,” she said, indicat¬ 
ing one at the end of her room. 

In spite of the horrible odor which appeared to 
strike me full in the face, and the unpleasant pic¬ 
ture before my eyes, I entered quickly, decided to 
pursue my adventure, which was turning out sin¬ 
gularly picturesque. 

Six children, half-dressed and more than half- 
dirty, rolled about the room in violent and noisy 
play. The place, besides, was all their own, there 
being no furniture in the apartment. 

I stepped over one, placed another on one side, 


8 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


and, after opening the door, I found myself in a 
bedroom. I will not attempt a description; the 
reader may imagine, after what he has already 
read, that this retreat was not that of a fashionable 
exquisite. 

There was no one there to receive me. 

I ventured to pronounce the name of the con¬ 
jurer I had come to visit. 

Two curtains of an alcove, once upon a time 
white, were quickly opened, and in the middle of 
the opening appeared a thin, bony face in a night¬ 
cap yellow by long use. 

“What do you want, young man?” inquired this 
fantastic personage. 

“M. Hausheer,” I replied, a little astonished. 

1 ‘ That is my name. ’ 9 

.And my interlocutor looked at me with an air 
which appeared to say: After ? 

My illusions, so lofty and poetical a quarter of 
an hour ago, were now, you may believe, entirely 
dissipated. The man inspired me with absolute 
disgust. I wished to go at once, but could I do so ? 
It was necessary to say something to cover my 
retreat. 

“Sir,” I said, “Father Roujol informed me of 
your ability in the conjuring art. I was so inter¬ 
ested in what he said that I have called to talk with 
you about an art for which I have a passionate love; 
but pray don’t derange yourself; I will call an¬ 
other time.” 

“No, no, wait an instant. I understand. You 
want to take lessons.” 

I answered nothing, for fear of entering a path 
to which I saw no issue. 

Hausheer took my silence as consent, and, se¬ 
duced by the prospect of an asssured payment, he 


A DANGEROUS TEACHER. 


9 


jumped out of bed without ceremony, dressed in 
old calico drawers and a flannel waistcoat, and, 
without giving himself the trouble of donning other 
clolhing, approached me. 

“Let us see, young man, what you can do?” said 
he, presenting me a pack of cards. 

Far from accepting this invitation, I repeated 
my desire to shorten my visit. 

But my hungry teacher did not intend to lose me 
so easily. I had come for a lesson, and he deter¬ 
mined to give it me, and would admit of no reason 
for my not taking it. 

I persisted, however, in my purpose of a rapid 
flight. 

Hausheer judged without doubt that it was 
necessary to seduce me, because he exhibited before 
me, as a specimen of his skill, a series of card tricks 
of a finesse truly wonderful. 

During this display my apprehensions and dis¬ 
gust were, I confess, completely dispelled; admira¬ 
tion swallowed up all other feelings. I now de¬ 
sired to stay, and would at any price have explana¬ 
tions of his art. 

It was now my turn to seduce my seducer. 

I took the famous snuffbox from my pocket, and, 
presenting it to Hausheer, pressed the little spring. 
My little automaton left the box, sang, jumped, 
spread its wings, and, that being accomplished, dis¬ 
appeared as if by enchantment. 

While the bird sang my attention was concen¬ 
trated on it, but when it had finished I looked at 
Hausheer to judge the effect I had produced. I 
was struck by the expression of greed shining in his 
eyes. It appeared to me that he looked furtively 
around as if meditating an attack. His face was 


10 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


very pale, and his hands, which he advanced toward 
me, trembled with feverish excitement. 

‘ ‘ What do you think of it ? ’ ’ I inquired. 

Hausheer appeared to be more and more pre¬ 
occupied; instead of answering he went toward a 
drawer, opened it rapidly, took something out and 
hid it in the breast of his flannel jacket. 

“It is very pretty,’’ he said at last, returning 
close to my side, “but, young man, you must leave 
it in my hands, and I will sell it for you to one of 
my friends.” 

“It is not for sale,’’ I replied; “it was made to 
order, and I must deliver it to-day. ’ ’ 

“That does not matter; I must show it to my 
friend, and you can have it after. ’ ’ 

I did not answer, but I wrapped the snuffbox up 
and was about to put it in my pocket, when Hau¬ 
sheer advanced toward me, his eyes on fire. 

I confess I was frightened; and my fear in¬ 
creased when, after having almost driven me to a 
corner of the room, my aggressor said in a voice I 
shall never forget: 

‘ ‘ Do you understand, you must give it me ? ’ 

He at the same time put his right hand in his 
flannel vest, and I saw it close on what I thought 
the handle of a dagger. 

The instinct of self-preservation restored me all 
my energy; the danger was imminent. I prepared 
for a desperate defense. 

I placed the snuffbox in my pocket to free my 
hands, and I looked fixedly at Hausheer to read 
his least intentions. 

He appeared to hesitate an instant and reflect ; 
then, either because my countenance and coolness 
impressed him, or that he knew it would be im¬ 
possible to conceal a crime committed there, or 


A DANGEROUS TEACHER. 


11 


that he thought he would try persuasion before re¬ 
sorting to violent measures, his face changed sud¬ 
denly, his violet lips contracted as if to form a 
smile, while his face made an effort to return to an 
expression of calm and benignity. 

“Well, well,” he said, striking me familiarly on 
the shoulder, “why will you not even lend me the 
snuffbox ? ’ ’ 

“Devil of a man,” I replied, with all the calm 
my recent emotions permitted, “you are so excit¬ 
able that you don’t give time for explanations.” 

Hausheer treated me to some bad jokes, that I 
hardly heard through my preoccupation of mind. 
I feared his return to violence, and to save myself 
i searched for a plan of escape, and had the happi¬ 
ness of finding one. 

“Look here,” said I, with an appearance of good 
temper, “you say you are sure you could sell my 
little box?” 

“I am positive of it; it is perfectly certain, be¬ 
cause my friend is very rich, ’ ’ replied Hausheer. 

“Oh, indeed,” I said; “well, if your friend is 
really very rich, you can do me a great service, my 
dear sir.” 

“What?” 

“I possess another snuffbox, like the one you 
have seen as to its mechanical points, but it is made 
of gold, and its high price prevents my selling it. 
I should be delighted if your friend would buy it. ’ ’ 

How true is the saying that the best means of 
being deceived is to believe that you are more cun¬ 
ning than others. The cunning cheat did not per¬ 
ceive my trap; he walked into it. 

“Yes, I can do it. He will buy it, I am certain 
of it. Come along; I will go with you for it. ’ ’ 

“Very well,”I replied; “dress yourself. I will 


12 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


wait for you, unless you perfer coming with me 
dressed as you are.” 

I accompanied this pleasantry with a forced 
laugh which produced no echo. Hausheer only 
offered me a chair and dressed himself before me. 
During that time I completed the plot of my little 
revenge. 

We soon started. 

Golden Crown Street was situated behind the 
Hotel de Ville. I lived very near in the Street 
Yendome in the Fields. We were quickly there; 
both of us desired to hasten the time of our arrival. 
I knocked at my door; it was opened. I passed in 
first, and, holding the door slightly ajar, I turned 
to my companion, and said in a calm and ironical 
cone: 

“M. Hausheer, I have business here, and expect 
to be detained some time. I beg you will not wait 
for me.” 

“And the snuffbox and the little bird?” said 
my German friend, red with rage. 

“That shall amuse you on some other occasion,” 
I replied, putting as much meaning and malignity 
as possible into my accent, and then shut the door 
close to his nose. 

Listening at the door, I heard Hausheer offer 
up a frightful series of imprecations and oaths, in 
the middle of which I distinguished the words, 
“What a fool I’ve been!” 

I cared little for his imprecations; I was at home 
and had now nothing to fear; so I abandoned the 
baffled cheat to his anger and regret. 

A few months later, in reading the Laiv Gazette, 

I was surprised at seeing the name of Hausheer 
figuring in the trial of a band of sharpers of the 
worst kind. 


A DANGEROUS TEACHER. 


13 


His words, “What a fool I’ve been!” returned 
to my mind. I then understood all its criminal sig¬ 
nificance. Hausheer, if less a fool, would have 
taken the snuffbox by any means. 

That thought sent a cold shiver down my spine. 

This experience made me more prudent for the 
future, but did not stop my researches; only, in¬ 
stead of pursuing myself dangerous inquiries in 
dangerous places, I employed a third person. 

In fact, I had a kind of courtier of trickeries. I 
made the acquaintance of a young man whose life, 
although tolerably respectable, was passed in eating 
houses and gambling places, and he undertook to 
supply me with the information I so dearly coveted. 

At these words I fancy I hear the reader exclaim, 
“Why attack so high a price to such unprincipled 
tricks? Is it not the conduct of a fool, or at the 
least of a monomaniac?” 

Yes, you have said the right word; yes, I was a 
monomaniac; but I must say that my madness 
had a purpose which I felt convinced would be use¬ 
ful one day. 

The end that I proposed to myself of reaching 
some time, and which thousands of circumstances 
have always retarded, is (and I think the reader 
has divined it) the work I now present under the 
title of: 

CARD-SHARPERS : THEIR TRICKS EXPOSED. 


.4 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE MODERN GREEKS. 

After having written the title of this chapter, it 
is, I think, as well to explain to the reader why the 
compatriots of Homer and Plato enjoy so compro¬ 
mising a reputation, and by what circumstances the 
word Greek has become the synonym of sharper and 
•rascal. 

Towards the end of the reign of Louis XIV. a 
certain chevalier of Greek origin, named Apoulos, 
was admitted to the Court. He quickly made so 
much money at play that his success awakened sus¬ 
picion as to the cause of such great good fortune. 

Notwithstanding his astonishing ability, the 
gentleman was caught in the act and condemned for 
twenty years to the galleys. 

This adventure made a great deal of noise, and 
the name of Apoulos, or simply that of Greek, was 
bestowed upon those who by trickery endeavored 
to adjust for their benefit the chance of fortune. 

A word more in the French language is gen¬ 
erally of no importance from a moral point of view, 
yet, nevertheless, I think it is due to the addition of 
that word that we owe a great increase in the num- 
Der of sharpers at play. Many people who, if 
they are called cheats and sharpers, would hesitate 
to incur that infamy, have decided to fall into the 
temptation because the name applied to them was 
the comparatively lighter epithet, Greek. Proving 
once more how true it is that 

Often names decide things. 

But what contributed more powerfully to in- 


THE MODERN GREEKS. 


15 


crease the number of scamps with light fingers was 
without dispute, the establishment in Paris of two 
public gaming places under the names of the Ho¬ 
tels de Gevres and de Soissons. 

Before that the Greeks had exercised their in¬ 
dustry separately; most of them had no method, 
and the means employed were, with few exceptions, 
gross and clumsy. In a word, the art of trickery 
was in its infancy. 

The opening of the two before-mentioned hotels 
created a veritable revolution among the Greeks; 
the cleverest of them, at last united, agreed to¬ 
gether to create new plans and schemes for the 
purpose of artistically appropriating other per¬ 
sons’ property. 

They invented, they calculated, they imagined, 
and from these learned discussions resulted com¬ 
binations previously unknown. 

Lasquenet, pharaon, piquet, quadrille, favorite 
games of the period, proved gold mines to these 
astute manipulators of the dupes they made. 

The game of roulette itself, which had been in¬ 
troduced into the two hotels for the public security, 
was not sacred from the combinations of the 
banded Greeks. 

One of these clever gentlemen, a geometrician, 
invented a roulette where the black cases were 
arger than the white, the consequences of which 
was that the ball in its rapid movement had a 
greater chance of entering in one than the other. 

The success of this discovery required an ar¬ 
rangement with the attendants of the hotel; but 
that was not too difficult, most of them being al¬ 
ready cheats. 

The number of cheats increased so rapidly in 
Paris that it seemed likely to terminate in there 
being no more dupes. 


16 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


This penury of prey for the eager Greeks was 
not of long duration, for the latter were perfectly 
aware that the number of dupes is infinite, and that 
the supply can never fail if they take the weakness 
of the human heart into account. The Greeks 
therefore organized a service of emissaries, and 
charged them with the duty of drawing in—first, 
the foreigners just arrived in the capital; second, 
the winners of lawsuits just terminated; third, 
players who had gained large sums; fourth, sons 
of good family who had come into a large fortune; 
fifth, dissipated clerks, likely to hazard on a card 
money not their own. 

With such assistance the Greeks realized enor¬ 
mous gains; but their conduct became so scandalous 
that, on the report of the police, Louis XV. ordered 
the Hotels de Gevres and de Soissons to be closed, 
and renewed the ancient laws against gaming. 

Even this did not disconcert the Greeks; they 
opened private gambling hells. 

The police, soon on their track, made a deter¬ 
mined war on them. Perpetual pursuit, imprison¬ 
ment of the proprietors of the gambling dens, the 
condemnation of a crowd of sharpers, terrified the 
dupes, who, although always blind, have much self- 
love, and at last they feared to enter such establish¬ 
ments. 

Thus tracked, the Greeks scattered, flying to the 
provinces and abroad, to return again to take their 
pleasures in the capital when the State, in need 
of money, established Frascati and the rival houses 
of the Palais Royal. At the door of these estab¬ 
lishments they might have placed these words 1 
“Here we cheat in good faith,” because the sums 
people lost there, caluculated in advance on the 
probabilities of the case, produced a considerable 


THE MODERN GREEKS. 


17 


tax for the State and an immense benefit to the 
farmer of taxes. 

But the Gorvernment firmly closed its eyes to all 
abuses, until the public indignation made it re¬ 
luctantly comprehend that it was no longer possible 
to organize and legalize frauds. 

Roulette, and other games that follow in its train, 
were once more forbidden, and with them parted, 
or at least seemed to part, the band of pickpockets 
for whom such play was a rallying point. 

We said that the band appeared to part, because, 
although roulette had been banished from Prance, 
the Greeks had not, unhappily, ceased to remain 
there. 

But where could they be found? 

The dupes they had made knew very well. They 
had been taught at their own expense that these 
insatiable birds of prey are to be found at every 
place where money is placed on a green tablecloth. 

“But,” you will ask, “how are they recog¬ 
nized ? ’’ 

There, indeed, is the difficulty, because these 
heroes of the Court of Assizes have become cle\ erer 
than ever. Forced to enter into society, they have 
felt the necessity of perfecting still further their 
guilty industy in order to escape the severe punish¬ 
ment the law reserves for them. 

Still, in spite of the difficulty of recognizing 
them, we will endeavor to point them out to honest 
people, if not by their particular features, at least 
by some characteristic traits, and especially by the 
revelation of the tricks they habitually practice. 

Taken collectively, the Greeks do not present any 
marked type; it would be difficult to portray their 
facial appearance, because the species is so nu¬ 
merous and varied. I, however, think it necessary 


18 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


in order to better describe them to divide the Greeks 
into three categories: 

1st. The Greek of the Fashionable World. 
2nd. The Greek of the Middle Classes. 

3rd. The Greek of the Gambling Hell. 

To all lords, all honor; therefore we will com¬ 
mence by the first class. 


THE GREEK OF THE FASHIONABLE WORLD. IS 


CHAPTER II. 

THE GREEK OF THE FASHIONABLE WORLD. 

The Greek of the fashionable world is without 
dispute the subtlest, the most adroit, and the clev¬ 
erest of his talented species; in short, he is a great 
master in the art of making dupes. 

The Greek of this order is generally a man 
accustomed to good company, whose deportment 
and manners are all that can be desired; and if 
he does not dazzle by the brilliance of his conversa¬ 
tion, it is only because he does not desire to eclipse 
any one else, and also that he reserves himself for 
his professional avocations. 

The Athenian gentleman dispenses easily with 
showy and agreeable qualities; he does not value 
them. But on the other hand he values infinitely 
the qualities that assist him in his profession. Thus, 
for example, whether he owes it to nature or to 
study, he possesses in the highest degree that deli¬ 
cate and prompt perception, that exquisite tact, 
and especially that marvelous appreciation of which 
I have spoken in my work, “Confessions of a Con¬ 
jurer. ’ ’ 

When he is skilfully dealing with a dupe at play, 
although he appears to be only intent on his own 
cards, you can see him direct a veiled and furtive 
glance around which takes in and appreciates 
everything which occurs around him. He knows, 
from the impression produced by the examination 
of the cards, as well as by the arrangement of them, 
how to form an opinion of the play of each of his 
adversaries. 


20 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


As physiognomist the Greek of the fashionable 
world could give instruction to Lavator himself. It 
is in vain that any one attempts to cover his feelings 
and thoughts by a veil of cold impassibility; at the 
least movement of the facial nerves, at the slightest 
possible contraction of the features, he will discover 
the most secret emotion of the soul. 

These delicate appreciations, so useful for his 
perfidious plots, serve him equally well to weigh the 
degree of confidence he inspires. 

The Greek of the fashionable world plays every 
game with equal perfection. The theories and possk 
bilities of the game of hazard, so cleverly described 
by Van Tenac, are only for him elementary princi¬ 
ples that he elaborates with a rare intelligence. 

To these eminent qualities of the mind, the 
Greek of the fashionable world unites a profound 
knowledge of the most difficult tricks of conjuring. 
Thus no one knows better than he how to draw the 
card or break the cut, to use or place aside con¬ 
cealed cards, etc., these three important principles 
of deception he has raised to astonishing heights of 
perfection. 

Favored by excellent sight, he can, after the 
cards have been played before him several times, 
recognize and distinguish several of them. One 
because it is to a very slight extent deeper-colored 
than the others; another because it has a little mark 
or stain that the most careful maker cannot avoid; 
and he profits by such knowledge to increase his 
chance of winning. 

If such marks are not perceptible, the Greek 
through the extreme delicacy of his touch knows, 
when they are in his hand, how to recognize as he 
plays them, several cards that he has already 
marked with a slight scratch. This enables him to 


THE GREEK OF THE FASHIONABLE WORLD. 21 

either keep or pass them to his adversaries, accord¬ 
ing to his interest in the game. 

The Greek of the fashionable world leaves the 
capital during the summer for the purpose of tak¬ 
ing the waters. In that case he cheerfully proceeds 
to that celebrated and brilliant oasis called Baden- 
Baden. It is there that, thanks to the blindness 
when they are in his hand, how to recognize as he 
makes enormous gains, by the aid of which he leads 
the luxurious existence of a nabob. 

The majority of the sharpers end miserably; 
some return to private life and drag on an existence 
of remorse and fear, such as that so cleverly de¬ 
scribed by a witty writer in his “Fortune Mys¬ 
terious/ J 


22 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE GREEK OF THE MIDDLE CLASS. 

The Greek of the middle class, also termed the 
wandering Greek, because he is almost ubiquitous, 
is the link between the Greek of the fashionable 
world and the cheat of the gambling hell. This is 
an important feature, because he, to a great extent, 
melts almost imperceptibly into the two extremes 
of the world of robbers. 

The wandering Greeks rarely travel alone, they 
are assisted by companions called Comtois. These 
are, a» a rule, other Greeks whose talent, fortune, 
and respectability are as great as their partners’. 
Now and again, according to circumstances, the 
honorable workers change their parts, and take, 
turn about, the position of Comtois. 

These gentlemen have, besides the Comtois, lady 
helps named Amazons, of whom they make the 
most dangerous and effective use. These are their 
companions, their close associates in good and evil. 

These creatures, who are usually very pretty, 
possess a perversity at least equal to that of their 
lords and masters. 

In the ambushes prepared for the young fellow 
of good family, and to foreigners under the title 
of receptions, the Amazons play the pare of decoys. 

The cunning witcheries of these women are in¬ 
capable of analysis and cannot be described here. 
Let it suffice to say that, like the innocent larks 
that the bird-catcher attracts and blinds by the 
glittering of a glass, the imprudent visitors, once 
fascinated by these sirens, become an easy prey, and 


THE GREEK OF THE MIDDLE CLASSES. 23 

allow themselves to be plucked by the Greeks, 
male and female. 

The wandering Greek is a long way from the 
possession of the brilliancy and good breeding of 
his brother of the fashionable world; he does not 
possess like him that fine tact, that delicacy of 
execution, which renders the former’s trickery 
almost imperceptible. But in spite of that, he is 
master of great ability in the conception of his 
plans, and also in the manipulation of the various 
instruments used by the sharper. 

Cards, dice and dominoes are in his hands very 
dangerous things. 

All games, whether simple or difficult, enable him 
to exercise his deadly address; whether it be whist, 
or bataille, or trictrac, he possesses cunning tricks 
enough to turn the luck to his own side. 

The dupes of the Greek are as numerous as they 
are various, he finds them in every one everywhere. 
There is nothing sacred for him; his nearest rela¬ 
tions, his friends, even his most intimate, are occa¬ 
sionally his first victims. 

The following is an instance which shows the 
perfidy of this class of sharper. 

Three Greeks, united together for the purpose 
of carrying on their business, were all separately in 
search of pluckable victims. 

One of them, a young Italian named Candid, 
perhaps because of his astute address, came to 
announce to his confederates that he had discovered 
a young man of good family, just arrived in the 
capital. 

The young man was rich, a gambler, and prodigal 
to excess. These virtues were naturally highly 
appreciated by the three sharpers. 

They were also informed by the Italian, that 


24 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


their intended prey would visit the Opera that 
night. 

Naturally, the society took care not to neglect 
so good an opportunity. They arranged the plan 
of attack at once, and, when all the combinations 
were settled, they separated to meet again at the 
Academy of Music. 

At the hour fixed, the three Greeks found them¬ 
selves united in the foyer of the Opera, and fortune 
favouring them, it was not long before they were 
joined by the eagerly expected young capitalist. 

The Italian addressed him, and presented his 
two comrades under false and noble names. 

The presentation made, they strolled, they chat¬ 
ted, and the conversation became so interesting that 
they remained together during the night. 

The three Greeks showed a charming amiability. 

Their companion, enchanted with his new friends, 
invited them to sup with him at the “Maison 
Doree” restaurant. 

I need hardly say the proposition was accepted 
with delight. 

The repast was worthy of the rich host, nothing 
was spared to please such amiable guests. 

To prolong the pleasure of this agreeable reunion, 
play was suggested, and bouillotte having been pro¬ 
posed, it was received with acclamation. 

While the tables were being prepared, our three 
cheats found means of consulting together, and, on 
the proposition of Candid, they agreed that for the 
purpose of leading their host on by degrees to gross 
stakes, they should allow him to win up to three 
thousand francs, after which they would pluck him 
to pieces. 

Everything was therefore on the side of the 
Greeks. The young capitalist placed on the table 


THE GREEK OF THE MIDDLE CLASSES. 


25 


a pocket-book, which appeared richly filled. He 
took out a note of five hundred francs; and it was 
doubtless filled with others. 

Fortune, assisted by the three cheats, so favored 
the provincial that in a little time he found himself 
winner of a sum which would serve as bait. 

“Really, gentlemen,” he said, as he placed in 
nis pocket-book the notes just won, “I am so 
confused by my great good fortune that I will tire 
it out, so that you may have your revenge. See, 
1 will not stake now less than fifty louis! ’ ’ 

But he had hardly uttered these words when, 
drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, he 
carried it hurriedly to his face; he was attacked by 
bleeding of the nose. 

“Pardon, gentlemen,” he said, rising. “I will 
return to you under five minutes, because it is very 
rare that this infirmity of mine lasts longer.” He 
left the room, leaving his pocket-book on the table. 

Candid, animated by compasion for his new 
friend, followed to render him assistance, or rather, 
to be perfectly frank, for the purpose of sharing his 
rapid flight. 

The rich provincial was in fact, to speak the 
whole truth, nothing but a Parisian sharper with 
whom Candid had united to rob his associates of 
three thousand francs. The bleeding at the nose 
was the end of the comedy, the first act of which 
passed at the foyer of the Opera. 

Let us now return to the two forsaken Greeks, 
seeing and hearing what passed. 

“Ah, my friend,” said one of them to the other, 
Doth looking lovingly at the rich pocket-book, ‘ c fate 
favors us beyond our hopes. Admit that we have 
gained the money of the provincial; we had better 
take it and go. ’ ’ 


26 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


“Yes,” returned his comrade. “But there’s the 
bill to pay before we can leave. ’’ 

“Good heavens! that is simple enough! Pay 
the bill, the pocket-book will return us the 
advance . 9 9 

“But suppose we meet the provincial.” 

“Well! what can he say when we bring him his 
pocket-book that he left on the table ? 9 9 

‘ 1 Good, I understand. He must thank us for our 
thoughtful kindness. That is a good idea, capital ! 9 9 

The two scoundrels asked for the bill, fee’d the 
waiter handsomely, and hastily left the room. 

When at the bottom of the staircase, the Greek 
*dio held the pocket-book said to his friend: 

“Stop a moment. I have an idea again. Go 
Pack and tell the waiter that we have gone to the 
‘Cafe Riche’ to continue the game; that will give 
as time to get out of the way with our little find. ’ ’ 

He had no sooner turned his back than his 
v-ompanion took flight with the beloved pocket-book. 

Now, which was most robbed of the two robbers ? 

The pocketbook was filled with useless paper; 
*he good notes gained had been cleverly extracted 
by the supposed guileless young man from the 
country. 

That incident will give an idea of the character of 
die individual of which I have given here the type. 
If the reader desires to possess a deeper knowledge, 
let him continue to read this work; after the 
different rascalities that I am going to expose, and 
m which the wandering Greek plays the principal 
parts, I think he will be sufficiently edified on the 
perversity of that description of sharper. 




THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 


27 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 

One might say with truth that the Greek of the 
third rank is the vulgar parody of the two other 
types I have already sketched, and that if I were 
allowed to make a comparison which must, in fact, 
sin by more than one side, I could add that the 
Greek of the gambling hell is, compared to those al¬ 
ready described, what the whining beggar is to the 
virtuoso. 

Heaven forbid, at the same time, that I should 
fall into an ecstasy of admiration before the tricks 
of a scoundrel, whoever he may be! But one may 
admit, without being taxed with exaggeration, that 
if the rascalities of a Greek raise a feeling of repro¬ 
bation, that does not prevent one being greatly 
astonished at his skill. 

For my own part, I state sincerely here that 
although in all cases I object to be robbed, if such 
must be my fate I much prefer to be the dupe of a 
clever Greek than the victim of a low, clumsy rascal. 

In regard to distinction and elegance, there is no 
comparison to be made between the Greek of the 
gambling hell and those of higher position. There 
is reason to believe that they do not even suspect the 
existence of those more brilliant sharpers. The 
lower type of Greeks are nearly all alike; they are, 
for the most part, wretches that idleness and 
debauchery have driven to ask from cheating what 
they will not attempt to win by honest industry. 

Their tricks are usually as coarse as the peopk 
to whom they address themselves. It is no longer 


28 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


the art of the conjurer; it is trickery without a 
name. Their adversaries are, besides, so easy to 
take in, that they are not spurred to take greater 
pains. In addition, it is nearly always after 
emptying the fifth or sixth bottle between two, that 
the game commences and the cheating is done. 

It is not necessary to say that the qualities 
essential to the Greek of the low drinking den is the 
capacity to smoke and boose without being affected 
by either. A long use of alcohol produces that 
insensibility. 

The low Greek establishes his center of operations 
in the drinking rooms of the wineseller, in the 
gambling dens, and in the low drinking houses of 
the suburbs. 

His victims are most often the drunken work¬ 
man, country fellows visiting Paris, conscripts 
joining their corps, and occasionally little capital¬ 
ists on the spree. 

It is rare for the low Greek not to be supported 
by a disciple in the execution of his trickeries. His 
operations require the help of an accomplice, be¬ 
cause they are nearly always robberies in the 
American fashion. The following is one instance 
out of a thousand: 

The Greek enters a little-frequented public- 
house, and sits at a table near which a drinker is 
installed. This is his accomplice, who pretends not 
to know him. 

The newcomer orders a bottle of wine, and while 
drinking it he talks in so loud a voice to his neigh¬ 
bor that he naturally attracts the attention of the 
others in the room. Ho effects the greatest sim¬ 
plicity, and utters an absurdity arranged for the 
occasion. 

His assistant (the Comtois) makes a mocking 




THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 29 

reply, which arouses the laughter of the audience, 
who gradually close round the supposed antago¬ 
nists. 

The Greek finishes by being angry at the jokes 
at his expense made by the other, and asks him 
to play for the two bottles of wine they have had. 

The proposal is accepted, but the Greek plays 
very badly and soon loses the game. He holds his 
cards so awkwardly that those in the room believe 
lie is playing for the first time. Of course, his de¬ 
feat had been anticipated. 

His successful adversary, pleased with his vic¬ 
tory, leaves the table, and, after strutting about, 
goes out, his part being performed. 

In the meantime the supposed silly countryman 
converses with the others; he complains of his de¬ 
feat, and displays a great desire to take his re¬ 
venge from some one. 

The dupes see a chance of an easy victory; every 
one is greedy to play, and they are soon eagerly at 
it, winning without difficulty. But the Greek, far 
from losing heart, takes from his pocket a handful 
of five-franc pieces, with which he says he will pur¬ 
chase his revenge. 

This declaration and the sound of the silver 
awakens the greed of those present. Every one in 
the room desires his share of the plunder. They 
play again and win several games, and this loss, 
arranged by the Greek, gives him the desired oppor¬ 
tunity of increasing his stakes to double or quits. 

It is then the Greek enters on serious business, 
but without abandoning his part of simpleton, and 
uses all his vulgar tricks. He wins, but with such 
clumsy action and gross awkwardness that he 
awakens no suspicions. In the opinion of all for¬ 
tune has turned, and once more justifies the saying 


30 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


of the vulgar, ‘ ‘ There is a good God for the drunk¬ 
ards. ” 

The Greek, after well filling his purse at the 
expense of his opponents, has to abandon the game 
for want of people willing to play with him, and 
goes to share with his assistant the plunder of the 
day’s performance. 

This pretty little game, in the vocabulary of the 
Greeks, is called playing the peasant. 

If cheating of this kind was brought before the 
tribunals, we should only see one person accused, 
or at most two; but is not it evident to all the 
world that in these American kind of robberies, 
and particularly in the one just described, the 
dupes are as bad in intention as the sharpers who 
rob them? Would not they also profit by the sim¬ 
plicity of an unfortunate peasant in order to plun¬ 
der him ? The difficulty in the way of their success 
is that, under the appearance of stupidity, they 
have met with some one more cunning than them¬ 
selves. 

If I were writing for the frequenters of the 
“Paul Niquet” or for the consumers of the ardent 
spirits sold at the “Pere la Rangaine,” it would be 
necessary that the Greek of the kind just sketched 
should be the hero of this work; but as I firmly 
believe that the great majority of my readers will 
never have to defend themselves from the attacks 
of that lowest type of cheat, I will finish with him 
by exposing two or three of his best tricks. 

We now find our Greek at one of the cheap 
dining places of the suburbs, where the charge is 
one shilling a head. 

During the meal our friend, who does not want 
a vulgar joviality, proposes several wagers of an 




THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 31 

! equivocal kind, which always give him the ad¬ 
vantage. 

But the object of the sharper is not so much to 
win the wagers as to excite in his companions a 
kind of irritation, of which it is shortly his object 
to take advantage. 

While at dessert our man arms himself with three 
plates, which he uses to make disappear little balls 
made of bread crumbs. 

Far from attempting to show any skill, he is 
absurdly awkward. 

Every one laughed at him because he produced 
no illusion whatever. 

In spite of this our Greek continued with an un¬ 
blushing assurance. 

‘‘Look, gentlemen!” he said. “Please observe 
that I place this bread ball under this plate. Well, 
I will cause it to disappear without any one being 
able to see how.” 

But while the sharper places the ball under the 
plate, he knows how, by a rapid and clever trick, 
to shoot it to the other side of the room, where it 
j'falls on the floor. 

Pretending to believe that the ball is still under 
the plate, he tries to explain the beauty of the feat 
he is about to perform. In giving the explanations 
he turns his back to the three plates. 

At this moment a spectator, who had seen the 
ball fall, picks it up without being seen by the 
conjurer, places it ostentatiously in his pocket, 
and addresses those near him in a whisper: 

“Pay the stupid fellow out for once,” he said. 
“Bet him that the ball is no longer under the plate. 
He is sure to be taken in, because he has not per¬ 
ceived his mistake.” 

They accepted this advice the more readily be- 



32 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


cause people are never sorry to deceive the deceiver. 

The Greek, far from refusing the wager, fixes 
a higher stake, and even proposes to bet with every 
one in the room if they wish it. 

Seven or eight accept his offer, and amongst the 
first are those already taken in by the doubtful 
wagers which preceded the plate trick. They rub 
their hands at the prospect of a pretty little ven¬ 
geance. They are sure of gaining this time, be¬ 
cause they know perfectly well that the ball in 
question is in the hands of one of themselves 

Gut, astonishing deception, the little bread ball 
is under the plate! 

Mr. Greek has won his bets. 

At the same moment that our cheat had shot 
away one ball of bread he had cleverly introduced 
another in its place. 

The man who proposed the wagers was his ac¬ 


complice. 

Here is another trick of the masters of cheating: 

Some years ago, near the Jardin des Plantes, on 
the Place Bastille, or in some other public resort, 
people encountered a blackguard on his knees on 
the pavement, where he deceived the passers-by m 
the following manner: 

He held in his hand three cards, namely, the 
seven of hearts, the king of spades, and the ace of 
diamonds. 

The last two cards were held in the right hand, 
the ace above the king; and the other card was 
held in the left hand, as illustrated on the opposite 


The cheat, raising the hands a little, made the 
spectators observe the order of the cards, then, 
turning them quickly, he cast them successively on 
the pavement side by side: 



THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 


33 


i The seven of hearts in the place of figure 1. 

The king of spades in the place of figure 2. 

And the ace in the place of figure 3. 

This done, he made the cards change positions 
rapidly, in order to bewilder the eyes of the spec¬ 
tators. 



Then, addressing his audience, he asks them if 
they can inform him where the king of spades is. 

The spectators, after having seen this card fall 
to the right, and having followed its different 
evolutions, pointed out a card, and were right. 

The Greek appeared annoyed at his failure to 
take in his audience. He again shifted the cards, 
and this time offered to bet that no one could find 
the one indicated. 

The public laughed, but refused to bet. 

But a spectator, bolder than the others, a sort 
of countryman, with a simple, honest-looking coun¬ 
tenance, spoke to the Greek. 

“What you say is very cunning, but I bet you 
Wenty sous that I can find the king of spades.” 

The wager was accepted by the Greek, who, tak¬ 
ing up the card pointed out, confessed that he had 
lost the wager and paid the countryman. 




34 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


The two champions bet again and again, and the 
Greek always lost, until the peasant, apparently 
satisfied with his good luck, departed. 

The public, in its unuttered appreciation, was 
no more taken in than the countryman; but when 
the winner had gone, and the Greek still offered 
to bet on the right card, two or three individuals 
out of those present, taking the man for a fool to be 
easily cheated, accepted his offer. 

But these poor dupes were ignorant that the 
peasant was an accomplice, and that .the wagers 
he had won so easily were baits to their cupidity. 

With his new opponents the Greek acted very dif¬ 
ferently; in throwing the cards on the ground he 
employed a trick which altogether changed their 
position. 

It is true he placed the seven of hearts on the 
figure 1, but instead of letting fall, as before, the 
king of spades at figure 2, he dropped cleverly into ■ 
its place the card above (the ace of diamonds), and ? 
then placed the king on figure 3. 

This rapid change, too quick to be seen, resulted 
in this, that after a little manipulation by the Greek 
the cards indicated by the spectators was the ace of 
diamonds. 

What followed was the usual thing; the losers 
determined to be revenged, and did not quit the 
place until their pockets were completely empty. 

It sometimes happens that quarrels and fighting 
follow cheating of the kind described; but when 
that happens the accomplice, who watches the little 
game, interposes the strength of his arm and assists 
the escape of his confederate. 

This little trick is now confined to the low public- 
houses, the police forbidding the exhibition in the 
streets. 





THE GREEK OF THE GAMBLING HELL. 35 

In England the cheats have a similar game called 
thimblerig. 

They place three thimbles on a little table. 

Under one is placed a pea; then the operator 
rapidly changes the position of the thimbles to 
puzzle the spectators. 

As in the previous trick, the Greek engages the 
audience to bet by the aid of an accomplice. 

The reader already knows that this gentleman 
always wins. 

But it is another thing with the public; the 
gambler never loses, because, in making his changes 
with the thimbles, he arranges cleverly to place the 
pea in one thimble, while the spectator believes it 
is under another. 

This requires the art of the conjurer. 

The reader will understand, after what we have 
disclosed, that although the Greek of the gam¬ 
bling hell differs in his tricks from those of his 
companions in trickery, he yields nothing to them 
in cunning and rascality, 


36 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER V. 

A GREEK CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 

People are often puzzled to account for the fact 
that, although there are so many Greeks in society, 
so few of them are ever brought to trial. 

That is easily accounted for. 

In the first place, the Greek is usually clever, 
subtle, and cautious. It is very rare, for these 
reasons, that his tricks are discovered. 

Even supposing that he is taken in the act of 
cheating, if it is a private house, people are content 
with expelling him ignominiously after compelling 
him to restore his badly got gains; if it is a public 
pl^ce, then astute rascals always know how to in¬ 
vent some means of evasion or way of sneaking out 
of the difficulty. The following instance, of which 
I was witness, is an example: 

Thirty years ago there was on the Place Chatelet, 
on the spot now occupied by the Chamber of Nota¬ 
ries, a large and famous restaurant. 

In the center of an immense facade this estab¬ 
lishment presented a very pastoral sign—a calf 
being suckled by its mother. This simple allegory 
indicated to the least educated stomachs that within 
they were certain to be well nourished. In fact, at 
the most numerous public dinners, little and great 
wedding repasts—in short, at festivities of every 
kind—the guests were always sure of a perfectly 
appointed table and splendid rooms to enjoy them¬ 
selves in. 

After that necessary statement, I will begin my 
story. 


A GREEK CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 37 

During the Carnival of 1832 some persons of my 
acquaintance had the idea of organizing a sub¬ 
scription ball, and chose for the fete the famous 
rooms of “The Sucking Calf.” The subscribers 
were numerous, and the natural result followed— 
those present were very mixed. Out of about three 
hundred persons present perhaps a dozen were 
known. But as we had excellent stewards, we 
danced with confidence. 

Who says a ball says also a room for gambling. 
In this case there was near the dancing saloon an¬ 
other large room furnished for the card-players. 
I was a moderate gambler, because I never placed 
at the hazard of cards more than a silver piece: 
after that was gone I retired, if not with pleasure 
at least with philosophical resignation. On that 
night I was at open war with fortune. In spite of 
most elaborate combinations, the inconstant god¬ 
dess promptly crushed me. The last of my ten 
pieces of a franc each was melted under the breath 
of my terrible bad luck. 

The lightening of my purse placed me in excel¬ 
lent physical condition for dancing; but in addi¬ 
tion to not being much of a dancer, I feared that 
my partners might read in my eyes some trace of 
the bad temper resulting from my loss at play, be¬ 
cause, I must confess, ten francs at that time held 
an important place in my purse. But who can ex¬ 
pect to be a millionaire at twenty-five? 

Therefore, instead of dancing, I walked to a table 
near, in the evil hope of consoling myself for my 
bad fortune by seeing the ill-luck of some one else. 
We are all ill-natured when annoyed. 

The game was animated; gold glittered on the 
green cloth, and all eyes, fascinated by the precious 
metal, appeared to gloat on the anticipated pleasure 
of winning. 


38 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


They played ecarte. 

The players at the side of the table at which I 
stood were in bad luck; four games were won in 
succession by their opponents. 

I finished by believing that the bad luck with 
which I was penetrated was scattered on those by 
whose side I stood; so, in my strict impartiality, I 
resolved to take my evil influence to the winning 
side. The hand was held there by a man of about 
forty, whose face, ornamented by a thick, fair 
moustache, seemed to breathe frankness and honor. 
He wore a blue coat buttoned to his cravat, which 
gave him a military appearance, and his easy man¬ 
ners, his grace and good style gave on the opinion 
that he was a man used to the best company. 

This lucky player never failed, after each deal, 
while distributing the cards, to recall the reason 
of his good fortune, as if he would account for his 
success. 

‘ ‘ If, unhappily for me,’ ’ he said to his adversary, 
“you had played diamonds instead of spades, I 
should have been forced to cut, and you would 
have won.” 

This speech made me open my eyes. I was per¬ 
fectly aware that one of the means used by Greeks 
to turn attention from their present manipulations 
was to call attention to what had occurred before. 
Besides, it appeared to me that I had seen him use a 
particular movement not unknown to my expe¬ 
rience. 

I must avow that it took some time to induce me 
to believe that I was deceived in my conjectures, 
the play being carried on with such perfect regu¬ 
larity. In spite of that I did not allow anything 
to escape a careful analysis. 

This tenacity of observation had, in time, the 


A GREEK CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 39 

success it merited. A false movement, doubtless, 
started me on the right road, and I soon acquired 
the certainty that the lucky player was a Greek of 
the finest breed. 

I must here confess that, being master of the 
secret maneuvers of the Greeks, I take extreme 
pleasure in seeing them in execution. Under the 
hollow pretext of well establishing my facts, I ar¬ 
ranged with my conscience and thoroughly enjoyed 
the exhibition of skill and finesse. 

One must have seen to credit how my Greek by 
exquisite skill, while collecting the cards, chose 
those that he thought likely to be favorable to him, 
then classed them together as he shuffled them in 
the apparently most ordinary way, and at last neu¬ 
tralized the adverse effect of others, under the eyes 
of the deeply interested spectators. 

Poor dupes, how deeply I pitied them! 

I returned, however, to more honorable senti¬ 
ments, and, trampling on my admiration of his 
address, I decided to stop the little game of my too 
clever Greek. 

I went, in consequence, to acquaint one of our 
stewards, named Brissard, with whose intelligence 
and energy I was well acquainted, with the facts 
of the case. 

Brissard followed me, while the individual I 
pointed out to him rose from the table (a Greek 
cannot always gain; that would be too imprudent), 
and at the moment he left his seat my friend ap¬ 
proached him. 

“Sir,” said he, without any ceremony, “I am 
one of the stewards of this fete; as I have not the 
honor of your acquaintance, I desire to know under 
whose introduction you entered here?” 

“With great pleasure, sir,” replied the Greek, 


40 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


with a smile full of grace and confidence. “I was 

introduced by my friend M-” (he mentioned a 

name known to us both) “to one of your acquain¬ 
tances. Now, sir, if you will accompany me, we 
will go in search of my friend, who will indorse 
what I have said. Stop, I think I see him over 
there. ’ ’ 

Before such an answer, Brissard, believing I had 
made a mistake, was on the point of offering his 
excuses; but, on a sign from me, he decided to 
follow the Greek. He walked in front of us and ap¬ 
peared to search with great eagerness . We had 
much trouble to follow him in the midst of the 
crowd. 

All at once the blue coat disappeared as if by 
magic. Our efforts to find our lost Greek were 
fruitless. 

At last we learned that cur gentleman, in passing 
near a door, had seized the opportunity of escape. 

“I have an idea,” said Brissard to me, in run¬ 
ning towards the vestibule. “I will catch him yet. 
He was without a hat; he has not had time to get 
it. The address of the hatter will furnish a clue 
to the police. ’ ’ 

11 Madame, ’ ’ said he to the lady in her office near 
the place of exit, “have you seen a gentleman with 
large, fair moustaches come here for his hat?” 

“No, sir.” 

‘ ‘ That is all right. Kindly take great care of an 
unclaimed hat.” 

Then he went to the porter. 

“Tell me,” he said; “have you seen any one pass 
your lodge?” 

“Yes, sir; a man with large moustaches.” 

“Well, was he bareheaded?” 

“Yes, but at a few steps from the lodge he drew | 




A GREEK CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 


41 


an opera hat from between his coat and waistcoat, 
and, coolly opening it, placed it on his head.” 

“The rascal had taken his precautions. We have 
been cheated.” 

If I had often frequented such reunions as that 
described, I should have acquired greater ability 
in the chase of sharpers; but at that period graver 
affairs occupied my time and diverted my mind 
from alT such pleasures. In addition, it would have 
been repugnant to me to fill, even for my amuse¬ 
ment, functions which, although very useful, are 
not less unworthy of a person of any pretension to 
delicacy of feeling. 

I have told the story of the Greek and the hat 
because it serves as an introduction to a series of 
facts connected with card-sharpers and their tricks. 

I will continue my story, at a period twenty years 
lat«r. 


42 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE GAMBLER RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 

In 1852, after a long series of successful per¬ 
formances in Germany, I stopped at that charming 
place, Spa, for the double purpose of business and 
repose. 

I stayed at an hotel the name of which escapes 
me. This forgetfulness is very ungrateful on my 
part, as I found there the most careful attention 
to my wants, with an excellent table, and you do 
not find these agreeable accompaniments of travel 
everywhere. 

Our repasts were usually very gay. That was 
due to the fact that those present were people of 
good position and in excellent health, who took the 
waters simply for amusement. 

My neighbor at table was an old patron of the 
house, and had been staying there for some months. 

He was an elderly man with a long white beard, 
so full that it nearly covered his face. All one 
could see were two cheeks so brightly colored that 
a coquette would have envied them; they were like 
two rosy apples laid upon snow. 

M. Raymond, the name of the gentleman in ques¬ 
tion, was the most genial, amusing, and amiable 
companion I ever encountered. He possessed that 
rare art which consists in keeping up a pleasant 
conversation by making others talk; that is to say, 
that unless he had an interesting story to tell, which 
rarely happened, he managed, by brilliant ability, 
to make every one at the table add to the pleasure 
of the meal. He was, in a word, the life and soul of 
our dinner party. 


RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 43 

M. Raymond, to whom we gave the name of 
friend Raymond, or simply that of onr friend, ap¬ 
peared to be in easy circumstances. No one knew 
his exact income, but we supposed him to be well 
off, because he was a constant player at roulette, 
and to be a constant player at that game one must 
be rich. Roulette is not generous, that is its least 
fault. 

At the waters the passion for play is not a vice; 
it is a distraction, quite in fashion. Thus my 
amiable neighbor, notwithstanding his constant 
visits to the green table, enjoyed the general re¬ 
spect, 

M. Raymond attended several of my perform¬ 
ances, and appeared to thoroughly enjoy them. He 
had talked with me several times on the subject of 
my art, and had displayed a profound knowledge 
of conjuring in general, and particularly of card 
tricks. When we were alone he would draw the 
cards and execute with ease very difficult tricks in 
a manner to make me regard him as one of the 
most distinguished amateurs I had ever met. 

This sympathy in taste—I may say passion— 
contributed to increase our intimacy, and few days 
passed on which we did not take our walks round 
the town in company. Our talk, naturally, very 
often recurred to the same subject. We also often 
conversed about roulette and trente-et-quarante. 
But on that subject we rarely agreed, and my friend 
became angry when I told him that I held gambling 
in horror, and that when I approached the green 
table it appeared to me that I assisted at a reunion 
of fools, or, at all events, maniacs of the worst 
kind. 

“^ools, maniacs !” exclaimed M. Raymond. 
“But are you ignorant of all the study, of the force 


44 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


of mind and genius that are necessary to combat 
bad fortune? Are you not aware that the art of 
controlling chance is not a dream, and that the pre¬ 
rogative of intellect is to know how to appreciate 
the value of probabilities?” 

One day, as a sequel to one of these discussions, 
a little livelier than usual, M. Raymond, feeling 
without doubt the feebleness of his arguments in 
favor of play, allowed himself to impart to my ear 
the most interesting confidences. 

“Ah! you say that you regard gambling with 
horror, and that you never play. Well, listen to 
me. I could make you in one hour as passionately 
fond of play as I am; in fact, I should be compelled 
to restrain and guide you.” 

I made a gesture of contradiction. 

“Favor me with your attention,” he added; 
“the only thing I will ask you to do is to promise 
not to reveal what I am about to impart. 

“You doubtless share the general opinion that M. 
Raymond is possessed of independent means. I am 
rich, in truth, because I draw my income from a 
source practically inexhaustible. At the same time I 
confess that I possess no other fortune than that 
derived from my wits. In other words, I live upon 
the money I am able to derive from clever com¬ 
binations at roulette. I can give you evidence that 
there is not a year that I do not derive from that 
capricious game at least twenty thousand pounds. 
I wall now show you how. 

“For a long time people have laughed at intelli¬ 
gent players who, not confiding in uncertain for¬ 
tune, have tried to direct her in their favor by more 
or less ingenious combinations. 

“If they are deceived by the result, is it there- 



RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM 45 

fore necessary to conclude that it cannot be ac^ 
complished ? 

“I have good reasons to be of the contrary 
opinion, and I hope that when you have heard why 
you will agree with me. 

“To assist you in understanding my explanations 
I will at first establish this aphorism: 

“All games of. chance present two distinct feat¬ 
ures, viz., those which concern the person interested 
(that is to say , the player), and those that are in¬ 
herent to the combinations of the game. 

“The chances of the player are represented by 
two mysterious agents, known by the names of luck 
and ill-luck. 

“The chances of the game may be called proba¬ 
bilities. 

* ‘ Probability is the relation which exists between 
the number of causes favorable to an event and 
the total number of possible causes. 

“Some learned people have written very fine 
things on probabilities; but just because of their 
multiplicity and depth these calculations are of no 
practical utility to the player. 

“Besides, all these systems of probabilities may 
be with advantage replaced by the following 
theory: 

“If chance may bring to the game every possible 
combination, there are, nevertheless, certain limitr 
before which it appears to stop. 

“For example, such would be the case if a cer¬ 
tain number appeared ten times in succession a i 
roulette. 

“That could occur, but it never has. 

* ‘ One may conclude that in a game of chance: 

“The more times a certain combination is repro' 


46 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


duced, the nearer one approaches to the certainty 
that it will not occur again. 

“That is the most elementary theory of proba¬ 
bilities, and is named the ripeness of chances. 

“After what has preceded,” added M. Raymond, 
“you comprehend that to win a player must not 
only begin with a vein of good luck, but, in addi¬ 
tion, he should not risk his money except at the 
time indicated by the rule of the maturity of 
chances. 

‘ ‘ I have made my necessary introduction as short 
as possible. ’ ’ 

At this moment M. Raymond, doubtless to give 
my attention a necessary interval, stopped, slowly 
drew his handkerchief from his pocket, used it sev¬ 
eral times, then, thinking me sufficiently rested, 
continued as follows: 

“My theory is contained in the following pre¬ 
cepts, entitled: 

“advice to players. 

‘ ‘ 1st.—Choose of preference the game of roulette, 
because it presents several ways of staking money,* 
which permits the player to study the several kinds 
of maturity. 

*Odd, even, miss, red, black, and the thirty-eight num¬ 
bers of the ball, and, in addition, the different combina¬ 
tions of the game. 

“2nd.—A player should present himself before 
the green cloth coolly and calmly, like a business 
man engaged in a negotiation. If passion inter¬ 
venes, farewell prudence and luck, because is there 
a position which gives greater opportunity to bad 
fortune than that of an excited gambler ? The sim¬ 
plest rules of equilibrium prove it. In fact, if we 
admit that the passion for play procures ineffable 
joys, as all happiness on earth is balanced by pro¬ 
portionate suffering, it is nearly certain that the 




RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 47 

anticipated pleasure of possession will be equalized 
by bitter disappointment. 

Every one who enjoys gambling runs the risk 
of losing. 

“3rd.—The prudent player, before beginning to 
gamble, should satisfy himself by proofs and ob¬ 
servations in what vein he is at the time. If he 
has any doubt on the subject, he should refrain. 

“4th.—There are people who are always pursued 
by bad luck. To such persons I say: Never play. 

“5th.—An experienced player should invariably 
avoid joining his chance to unlucky players who 
always lose. Nothing is so catching as bad luck. 
Be careful not to approach such plague-stricken 
persons. 

“By the opposite reason, associate yourself with 
those who are in luck. 

“Gth.—Always place yourself at play last; you 
thus avoid the bad influence of late comers. 

“7th.—Choose, for playing, the moment when 
players are numerous; the games are then more 
rapid, and you have a better opportunity of study¬ 
ing the play. • 

“8th.—Never begin to play when the mind is 
troubled. Occupy yourself solely with the voice of 
the croupier and of your own play; isolate your¬ 
self in the midst of a crowd. 

“9th.—Never risk a chance until it has arrived 
at full maturity. This system forces a new player 
to remain inactive; but with practice one always 
plays, because one profits by all the chances at¬ 
tached to the combinations of the game. 

“10th.—AATien the established expectations built 
upon personal luck or probabilities are deceived, 
quit the game, to recommence at a more favorable 
time. 


48 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


“Obstinacy at play is ruin. 

“11th.—Never prolong a sitting beyond two 
hours; after that time the mind and luck are tired 
and require repose. 

“12th.—In order to acquire the impenetrable 
calm of which I have already spoken, bury at the 
bottom of your heart all the emotions that gain, 
however considerable, may evoke. Remember that 
Fortune does not love to see a man rejoice openly 
at the favors she accords, and that she reserves 
bitter disappointments for the imprudent who are 
intoxicated by success.” 

I gave M. Raymond’s explanations a continuous 
attention. His system appeared to me very in¬ 
genious, if not infallible, because it never entered 
into my mind that any plan could control fortune. 
I desired, nevertheless, to convince him that I had 
perfectly comprehended him. 

“All your precepts,” said I, “are very clear, and 
may be resumed in this one, that one should, before 
risking money at play, make a profound study of 
liis own vein of luck, and at the same time of the 
different probabilities of the game, called maturity 
of chances.” 

‘ ‘ That is exactly the same, ’ ’ added M. Raymond. 
“The system is certain, and I have only just made 
a most fortunate application of it. 

‘ ‘ I felt this morning that I was in a splendid vein 
of luck rare even in the life of a gambler. 

“I was so certain of this that I had instinctively 
the assurance that something fortunate would 
occur. 

“When I reached the table, I nevertheless made 
a few simple experiments at rouge et noir, and my 
success confirmed my hopes. 

* 1 1 was careful not to exhaust my vein; I there- 


RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 49 

fore stopped, and, taking a card, I made a ser-uus 
study of the maturity of chances in order to attempt 
a big success. 

“At the end of an hour’s observation, I believed 
the moment favorable; I placed ten francs all on 
number thirty-three. 

“I lost, as you might expect; but, full of con¬ 
fidence in my vein, basing it on the fact that num¬ 
ber thirty-three had not reached its full maturity, 
I played the same figure four times in succession! 
On the fifth occasion my theory justified itself; the 
ball stopped at the happy number. 

“My four stakes amounted to eighty francs. 
That sum being multiplied, according to the rules 
of the game, thirty-six times, I received two thou¬ 
sand, eighthundred and eighty francs. 

‘ ‘ A fool would have gone on with the game; but 
I, not to tempt with indiscretion my present good 
fortune, and to thus avoid the cruel equivalent of 
loss, quitted the table.” 

In spite of the very intelligent system of M. 
Raymond, he failed to inspire me with the desire 
of risking the smallest coin at roulette. I have 
always regarded gambling as cheating veneered by 
the bait of an easy gain. 

In truth, how many persons have, like M. Ray¬ 
mond, established systems and theories to break the 
bank, which have only resulted in their own ruin 
and that of the dupes who believed them! 

If there is one gambler who lives by his play, 

There are thousands who, famished, see hope fade away. 

Some days after this conversation I quitted Spa, 
on my return to France, and, therefore, as often 
happens with acquaintances made in travel, I said 
farewell to M. Raymond, perhaps to see him no 
more. But Fate ordered otherwise. 


50 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


Two years later, when I was at Baden, on the 
Promenade de Lichtenthal, a man whom I had not 
noticed, placed himself before me in a way which 
appeared to ask, “Don’t yon recognize me?” 

The man, to judge by his appearance, was cer¬ 
tainly not a leader of fashion; the long service of 
his brown coat was attested by its brilliantly pol¬ 
ished appearance; it was tightly buttoned to his 
throat, doubtless to conceal the want of a waistcoat, 
and to hide as much as possible of dingy linen. 
His strongly marked face was ornamented by a 
large gray moustache very carefully arranged. 

“Ah! how a beard more or less can change the 
countenance of a man!” said a voice that I imme¬ 
diately recognized to be that of friend Raymond. 

“That is true,” I replied. “But how changed 
you are! ’ ’ 

The more I looked at M. Raymond the clearer 
my recollections of him became. His thick mous¬ 
tache, his military appearance, seemed also to at¬ 
tach themselves to a circumstance which had for¬ 
merly struck me. But I could not recall the fact. 

"‘I do not desire to interrupt your walk any 
longer,” said M. Raymond, doubtless wounded by 
my hesitation, of the cause of which he was ignor¬ 
ant, and he prepared to go. 

I stopped him and said: 

“You don’t interrupt me; let us walk together; 
only I should prefer some quieter place, where you 
can tell me what has happened since our last 
meeting. ’ 9 

“Ah, good heavens!” sighed poor Raymond, pre¬ 
paring to follow me. “My story is very simple; 
you shall judge for yourself. 

“Fifteen days after your departure I fell into 
a vein of bad luck without a parallel. According 


RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 51 

to my principles, I waited, before commencing to 
play, for a good opportunity; but my horrible ill- 
I fortune lasted nearly six months. I changed my 
j place of operations to escape it. All was in vain. 
The most perfect maturities, the safest plans and 
comb:nations resolved themselves into ruin and dis- 
i aster. 

“My resources nearly exhausted, I sold suc¬ 
cessively my jewelry, my linen, my clothes, hoping 
with their price to save myself from utter ruin. 
But it was in vain that I used all the prudence of 
an experienced man, and gave myself up to des¬ 
perate studies of probabilities; every effort failed, 
and in*a short time I was reduced to terrible pov¬ 
erty 

“Since then my existence has been of the most 
precarious kind one can lead in this world. Too 
proud to beg, I resigned myself to bear the greatest 
privations. I am astonished that I did not die of 
famine. 

“You will understand that I dreaded being rec¬ 
ognized in my changed circumstances—I, the lucky 
player, I, the friend Raymond, whose happy talent 
had been formerly so much admired. I feared to 
encounter the pity of my former admirers. 

“I cut off my beard, type in some degree of my 
previous good fortune, and, under a new transfor¬ 
mation, lived unknown, waiting fcfr a better fate.” 

In spite of this proud speech of M. Raymond, I 
thought he would not refuse a little assistance. 
Nevertheless, fearing to wound his pride, I pressed 
his hand, and left in it a piece of twenty francs. 

“I accept what you offer,” he said at once; “but 
only as a loan; do you understand? Thanks, and 
good-bye for the present.” 

With this he left me rather abruptly. 


52 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


Curious of knowing his purpose, I followed him 
without his knowledge, and saw him direct his steps 
towards the throat of all-devouring roulette. I was 
not at all surprised; all gamblers are alike. 

At night Raymond met me again with a tri¬ 
umphant air. 

“Well,” he said, “people are right when they 
say that borrowed money brings luck. I am now 
in a vein of luck. I have played prudently for 
small stakes. I have won a hundred francs. It is 
the return of good fortune. Allow me, therefore, 
with my best thanks, to retain the twenty francs 
you lent me, because they are a talisman by which 
I hope to recover myself.” 

Cruel deception! The next day the talisman and 
che eighty francs won by it became the prey of the 
rake of the inexorable croupier. 

3 “Let me have a few more francs,” said Ray¬ 
mond, after telling me the bad news, “and I will 
tight against my bad vein of luck; because I must 
tell you that I have completely changed my system, 
and I am now so certain of my new plan that with 
three hundred francs only I will undertake to 
break the bank.” 

1 realized by that speech that Raymond had lost 
his reason, or at all events his judgment. 

“You would be much wiser,” I said, “to leave 
3aden and take up a less dangerous occupation. 
Have you no profession to return to?” 

‘ ‘ Alas!” he replied, ‘ ‘ the profession I formerly 
exercised was more dangerous than this one, and I 
have vowed never to return to it. ’ 1 

This short and simple statement of Raymond 
seemed all at once to light up the vague recollec¬ 
tions that his changed appearance had aroused in 
my mind. 



RAYMOND AND HIS INFALLIBLE SYSTEM. 53 

“Wait a moment,” I said, looking at him atten¬ 
tively, “yes, I am right. Were you not twenty years 
ago present at a hall given at ‘The Sucking Calf’?” 

“That is true. Well?” 

“You may remember having been questioned 
after some remarkably lucky games at ecarte, and 
that that was followed by a kind of flight?” 

“I particularly recall the circumstance,” re¬ 
turned Raymond, in the calmest manner, “because 
it and other misadventures of a kindred char¬ 
acter which had preceded placed me in great dan¬ 
ger of exposure, and caused me to visit Germany 
and to abandon a dangerous career for a life more 
tranquil and especially more honest. I changed my 
name, hid my face under a thick beard, and was, 
as you can bear witness, no longer recognizable. ’ ’ 

So full and free a confession inspired me with 
the hope of obtaining some particulars of a life 
which could not fail to be very interesting. I 
trusted to discover useful facts to add value to my 
history of trickery. 

I did not hesitate to make my request, and to pro¬ 
voke his confidence I offered to lend him three 
hundred francs, to be returned to me when he had 
made his fortune. It was only indirectly giving 
them away. 

Raymond accepted both propositions, but he 
asked a delay till next day to enable him to recall 
his adventures. 


54 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

INSTRUCTIVE HISTORY OF A GREEK. 

Raymond kept his word and visited me on the 
following day; and after I had made arrangements 
to prevent interruption, he began his story. 

“My intention,’’ he said, “is not to sell you the 
history of my life. I will content myself with in¬ 
forming you how I entered on the path of decep¬ 
tion, and the fatal causes which induced me to do 
so. After that I will tell you of some lively inci¬ 
dents in which I have been the hero, the accomplice 
or the witness. 

“My real name and birthplace are of little im, 
portance to you; I will conceal both for the credit 
of one member of my family who occupies at Paris 
a most honorable position. I shall therefore con 
tinue to be M. Raymond. 

‘ ‘ When but twenty years of age, sufficiently good 
looking, and possessor of ten thousand pounds, I 
led without control, being an orphan, a life as wild 
as strong passions and the most dissolute company 
in Paris could make it. 

‘ ‘ In two years I had exhausted my property and 
found myself miserably poor. 

“My friends turned their backs on me in the 
usual way, and, what is quite as usual, it was/ 
necessary for me, destitute as I was, to find food 
and shelter. 

“And that is a grand problem to solve for a 
young man whose only training has been idleness 
and debauchery. 

“I thought of suicide, but repelled the idea. 


INSTRUCTIVE HISTORY OF A GREEK. 


55 


Was that the result of resignation or cowardice? 
I do not know; but I decided to live on. ’ ’ 

M. Raymond continued with some interesting 
anecdotes, as he termed them. As faithful his¬ 
torian I will transmit them to the reader; and to 
avoid a style which suits memoirs better than this 
story, I will henceforth give my hero the honors of 
the third person. 

Raymond was abandoned by all his friends ex¬ 
cept one. This faithful companion, named Brissac, 
was of the same age, and had been sharer of his. 
debauches, and would now share his bad fortune. 
They had one purse—that is to say, they lived in 
the same poverty. 

Brissac had mental resources which were very 
valuable to his friends; every day combinations 
worthy of a better fortune arose in his imagination. 

“Ah, Raymond,” he said one morning, awaken¬ 
ing his comrade, 4 ‘ I have an idea! In a few days 
we shall be wallowing in gold. The only difficulty 
is that we want two thousand francs—nothing more 
than that—and this is what we must do to obtain 
them: I know, because I have made use of him, an 
old usurer named Robineau, a man very cunning,, 
very suspicious, and, above all, of a rascality to 
raise a blush on the cheek of an escaped convict. He 
must lend us the money. I must admit, in all 
humility, that my credit is ruined with him; I can 
ask for nothing; but you, my friend, you can easily 
ask him for a loan of two thousand francs. ’ ’ 

‘“Without doubt I can ask him,” replied Ray¬ 
mond. “Nothing is easier than to ask; but as to 
obtaining it, that is quite another thing. Such gen¬ 
tlemen as you describe usually ask for security.” 

‘ ‘ Quite so; that is my opinion. Then offer secur- 


56 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


ity to this honest Robineau,” said Brissac, salmly. 

“You must be laughing,” replied Raymond. 

“Not at all. I was never more serious. Now 
listen to me. You propose a promissory note, and 
in making this suggestion to father Robineau, refer 
him to your native town for information as to your 
position. As your ruin is not yet known there, no 
doubt your man, on the information he will receive, 
will advance you the sum required. As to pay¬ 
ment, ’ ’ added Brissac, as if to satisfy his conscience, 
“we shall soon find a way of returning him the ad¬ 
vance. ’ ’ 

All was arranged as Brissac suggested, by means 
of a bill of two thousand five hundreds francs at 
one month, renewable at the sole option of father 
Robineau, who remitted to Raymond two notes of 
one thousand francs each. 

The two friends, hungry for pleasure, thoroughly 
enjoyed themselves. At the same time they placed 
a certain economy in the expenditure of the money 
which enabled them to prolong their enjoyment for 
fifteen days. After that their privations returned 
in full force. 

They again addressed father Robineau. He was 
adamant. 

“When you have paid the first bill you will in¬ 
spire me with confidence, and I may be able to lend 
you a larger amount.” 

The fatal day arrived. The bill was presented 
and was not paid. Then followed protest, pursuits, 
judgment. To be brief, father Robineau carried on 
the war with such vigor that Raymond, to escape 
prison, was obliged to lead that mysterious life one 
feature of which consists in the impossibility of 
enjoying the sunshine out of doors. 

To crown his misfortune Brissac, who by means 


INSTRUCTIVE HISTORY OF A GREEK. 


57 


more or less honest provided for the existence of 
both, was threatened with the same fate as his 
friend. A bill drawn on the same Robineau, and 
accepted by Brissac, was very nearly due; but the 
latter was not the man to allow himself to be taken. 
He resolved to free himself by treason and perfidy. 

He went to Robineau, told him that he possessed 
nothing, and that it would be expensive and 
troublesome to imprison him; but that, on the other 
hand, his friend Raymond was in a position to pay. 
He then offered to bring a bill, accepted by Ray¬ 
mond, for one thousand francs in exchange for his 
own, promising, at the same time, to assist him in 
seizing his invisible debtor. 

His offer was accepted, and Brissac commenced 
at once the execution of his infamous project. 

He makes Raymond believe that he has found 
another usurer more accommodating than Robi¬ 
neau, who has consented to lend him one thousand 
francs on a bill signed by him. 

Brissac is no sooner possessor of the bill of his 
friend than he runs to Robineau and exchanges it 
for his, and returns to Raymond to continue his 
work. 

“All is Avell; there is only a little form to go 
through; but our new banker will only hand the 
money to you. Come with me to satisfy him.” 

“Yes, but I may be met by a bailiff and ar¬ 
rested, 9 9 objected Raymond. 

“I have provided for that. There is a cab wait¬ 
ing for you with the blinds down; therefore, there 
is nothing to fear.” 

Raymond, full of confidence, accompanied his 
friend; they congratulated each other on their 
good luck, and laughed at the trick they were play¬ 
ing with the officers, when all at once, at the order 


58 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


of a strange voice, the vehicle stopped. Then a 
man, in an authoritative tone, ordered Brissac to 
descend, and, after taking his place, ordered the 
driver to go to Clichy. 

“Farewell, Raymond. Keep your spirits up. 
Farewell!” And" with these words the traitor 
Brissac walked away. 

Friend Raymond, as he told the above story, 
could not help clenching his fists. 

“I am more angry,” said he, “with that infa¬ 
mous fellow, because it was through my imprison¬ 
ment at Clichy that I entered on a life of guilty 
perversity. ” 

As is usually the case, the prisoner at first deeply 
lamented his position; but on reflection he was ot 
opinion that he was not so badly off as he imagined; 
at least he was sheltered from the terrible poverty 
which pursued him. 

His companions in misfortune were far, besides, 
from despair. Each one appeared to take his 
trouble with philosophy. They gave in turn re¬ 
pasts and assemblies, to which ladies residing out¬ 
side the prison came. Cards were allowed, and, 
under fictitious stakes, they played for sums very 
high for insolvent gentlemen. 

From the first days of his detention, when every 
one around him was rather reserved, Raymond 
associated with a man named Andreas, who showed 
a friendly interest in his trouble. 

This man, although twenty years his senior, be¬ 
came his friend and confidant. Raymond told him 
of the follies of his youth, of his wildness and mis¬ 
fortunes. 

On his part, Andreas imparted his confidences, 
and from revelation to revelation he came to very 
compromising disclosures. He professed that he 



INSTRUCTIVE HISTORY OF A GREEK. 


59 


possessed tlie art of correcting the caprices of for¬ 
tune to a degree that, as said Cardinal Mazarin, en¬ 
abled him to take all his advantages at play. 

Andreas offered, in addition, to initiate him in 
these unprincipled maneuvers, and that they 
should work in common at duping the other pris¬ 
oners. 

Raymond, who had already ceased to be honest, 
did not feel wounded by this proposal; he accepted 
the partnership, and worked ardently to conquer 
the intricacies of his new profession. 

His progress was rapid, because students are not 
much distracted in prison, and therefore have time 
to pursue any study with advantage. 

Our two associates then began a war against the 
money of their fellow prisoners. They were so 
fortunate that in less than a year they gained more 
than sufficient to purchase their liberty. 

Father Robineau was one day invited to visit 
Clichy on important business. He suspected, cun¬ 
ning old usurer, that it was an affair of ransom, 
and took with him the necessary papers to effect it. 

Thanks to the zeal he displayed, the formalities 
were quickly surmounted, and Raymond found 
himself again on the Paris pavement, so pleasant 
to the feet of those of its inhabitants who have not 
trodden it for nearly a year. 

Andreas had also regained his liberty, and the 
two partners agreed to quit each other no more. 


60 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ILLEGAL GAMBLING HELLS. 

Bobbers and Bobbed. 

Before being an inmate of St. Pelagie, Raymond 
was completely isolated in the capital. On leaving 
that prison, he was in a different position. The 
friends of Andreas became his, and a good number 
of the houses open to his friend also warmly wel¬ 
comed Raymond. 

These new friends soon treated him like a 
brother; they were soon familiar enough to honor 
him with a nickname. And, in consequence of his 
good appearance and dress, he was called the Mar¬ 
quis. Andreas was honored with the name of 
Goldenhead, doubtless because of the fertility of his 
imagination. 

It did not take Raymond long to understand that 
the society he mixed with was composed entirely 
of people who lived by their w T its, and that the 
houses he frequented, and in which he was so 
heartily welcomed, were gambling hells to which 
foolish people were enticed and afterwards victim¬ 
ized. As his friends had recognized in him a cer¬ 
tain address in the manipulation of cards, he was 
charged from time to time with roles in which he 
acquitted himself with as much ability as pres¬ 
ence of mind. At the play table in these houses 
every one cheated with great talent, and it was not 
unusual to see at the same table as many cheats as 
dupes. 

Those engaged had agreed on the participation— 


ILLEGAL GAMBLING HELLS. G1 

that is to say, each Greek had his share of the 
plunder. 

"When the play of the night was over, after the 
withdrawal of the dupes, all that had been won 
was equally divided. 

If wolves do not devour each other, robbers know 
very well how to rob; that is sure to occur. This 
society afforded new proof of it. 

It often happened that after a game in which 
one hundred louis had been lost by the dupes, only 
sixty were to be found when it was a question of 
dividing. 

Each player agreed that there should be more 
money to divide; but no one confessed that he had 
stolen the amount deficient. 

Search was made for the missing money—they 
did not profess to be delicate—but nothing could 
be found. 

They had even the idea of empowering Golden- 
head to make a strict examination into this abuse 
of confidence. 

Andreas, flattered at being entrusted with so 
delicate a mission, displayed all the zeal and intelli¬ 
gence of which he was capable, and he did not hesi¬ 
tate to accuse two of his companions, and to point 
out the tricks they had employed to deceive the 
society. 

One of them gave instructions to his servant, 
who, near the end of the night’s play, came to ask 
his master for a key or for anything else. 

At the same time that he satisfied this demand 
the Greek gave him a rouleau of the louis won. 

If it was a game for high stakes the servant, on 
a signal from his master, returned the key and 
received at the same time a second packet of louis. 

Another Greek, more modest, had the cleverness 


62 


CARD-SHARP EES. 


to stick under the table, by help of balls of wax, a 
certain number of coins; these he would remove at 
the earliest opportunity. 

A third, who must have been a kind of human 
ostrich, swallowed pieces of gold, that he regained 
by using a strong emetic. 

These double robbers, when discovered, were 
driven out as unworthy of a society which prided 
itself on being composed of members whose honesty 
was equal to every test. 

It sometimes happened that bad gold coins were 
found with the good. But the author of this sub¬ 
stitution could never be discovered. Besides, they 
shut their eyes on this breach of faith the more 
readily, because the coins being so well made, they 
made no scruple in passing them to the trades¬ 
people. 

Andreas in time became tired of employing the 
resources of his imagination for the profit of per¬ 
sons with intellects so inferior to his own • over and 
above that, the gambling dens did not present a suf¬ 
ficiently large scope for his exploits. He required 
a big stage. 

In consequence he proposed to Raymond to quit 
the Lynx Society (that being the name of the hon¬ 
orable association) to form, with the assistance of 
a man named Chaffard, called the Prevot, a society 
for the utilization of Parisian and provincial dupes. 
This association was constituted under the title of 
the Society of Philosophers. This was to be the em¬ 
ployment of each associated philosopher: 

Chaffard should travel from time to time to discov¬ 
er birds to pluck. He was also authorized to enter 
into negotiations with country sharpers, and to 
arrange with them the conditions under which the 


ILLEGAL GAMBLING HELLS. 


63 


great ability of the masters should be used to suc¬ 
cessfully complete difficult enterprises. 

If Chaffard was not the equal of his two confed¬ 
erates in the manipulation of cards, he yielded 
to them nothing in regard to cunning and rascality. 
He possessed besides a quality which on occasion 
might furnish a good stroke for the benefit of the 
society. He was a bully of the first rank, always 
ready to quarrel with his dupes, even while he 
robbed them, so that many much preferred being 
cheated to being killed by him. His language in 
such circumstances was: “All right, sir; there’s 
nothing to be done but cut your throat! I am at 
your orders, ’ ’ etc., etc. 

If it happened that any one ventured to demand 
explanations of the rascalities of the two others, 
Chaffard intervened at once, espoused the quarrel 
of his friend, and always found means of fighting 
in his place; because neither Andreas nor Raymond 
was brave, and that was why they thought it pru¬ 
dent to engage the bravo to back them up. 

To be brief, Chaffard was the defender, the bul¬ 
wark of the Association of Philosophers. 

The character of Raymond, called the Marquis, 
was sweet and pacific. His manners were those of 
the best company. Intelligent and cunning, he 
readily undertook the exploitation of subscription 
balls, dinners, and mixed societies. And what is 
still more astonishing, is that he succeeded later on 
in getting presented in the salons of the higher mid¬ 
dle class, where he utilized his opportunities of 
swindling with as much prudence as ability. 

Andreas, called Goldenhead, did not lack a cer¬ 
tain distinction. Still the secret gambling hells 
were the theater of his exploits. 

There he not only found easy dupes, but more 



64 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


than that, thanks to his profound knowledge of 
trickery and his extreme ability, he succeeded in 
deceiving the Greeks themselves. 

To all his perfidious qualities Andreas joined 
again a presence of mind equal to every emergency 
He was very proud of that quality. In proof of it 
he once told Raymond the following incident: 

At the time he began his dangerous profession^ 
and while his talent was undeveloped, he insinuated 
himself one day into a secret gambling den open 
to the most passionate players in Paris. 

He was caught in the act of cheating, and cer¬ 
tain cards he had endeavored to introduce in the 
game of lansquenet were found in his possession 
and convicted him. Already it was a question of 
delivering him to the hands of justice, when one of 
the players judiciously said that the reunion in 
which the offense had occurred not being precisely 
within legal conditions, there might be unpleasant 
results arise from the accusation, not to the cheat, 
but to themselves; besides, there would be the 
trouble of giving the evidence necessary if they took 
the case into court. 

“Would it not be simpler,” he added, “when 
the offense which merits a severe punishment was 
committed here that we should satisfy ourselves 
and justice by throwing the scoundrel out of the 
window? Once outside, whatever may befall from 
his rapid transit through the air, he will never at¬ 
tempt to revise our sentence.” 

Every one agreed with this proposal, and it was 
agreed unanimously that the sentence should be 
executed. 

Andreas, on seeing the determination in the faces 
of all present, threw himself upon his knees and 
implored for mercy. He joined his hands and tried 


ILLEGAL GAMBLING HELLS. 


65 


to arouse the pity of his judges, and added that the 
floor on which they were assembled was very lofty* 
there being a ground and first floor below. 

All his prayers were in vain. One of the players 
who had been the greatest loser insisted that no 
mercy should be extended to the cheat, and he 
added that he should first be made to restore the 
cash he had stolen. 

This restitution was the easier to carry out, be¬ 
cause Andreas, while playing, had constantly kept 
at his side on the table a purse of green silk in 
which he had placed the gold of his victims. 

‘ ‘ I ask no better terms, ’ ’ exclaimed Andreas, in a 
broken-hearted voice, while he placed the purse on 
the table; ‘ ‘ but, gentlemen, do not take my life! ’ ’ 

For answer they opened the window. 

Four of the most vigorous players were selected 
by the others to throw the rascal out. 

They approached to seize him, when Andreas 
took an energetic resolution, and, starting before 
them, jumped clear from the window, and, like a 
true gymnast, alighted upright in the street. 

A little bewildered by the shock, he trembled at 
first, marched like a man crippled, then, increasing 
his speed, disappeared, to the stupefaction of the 
spectators. 

This serio-comic execution of the sentence was 
hailed with mad laughter. 

When the amusement of the gamblers was ap¬ 
peased, they thought of dividing the losses sus¬ 
tained during the night. 

One of their number was chosen for the purpose 
of receiving the account of each one’s losses, and 
it was agreed that the money found in the sharper’s 
purse should be given to the poor. 

When they opened the purse of the exposed 


66 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


sharper they found in it only brass counters in¬ 
stead of gold! 

Andreas, always even then prepared for a sur¬ 
prise, invariably carried with him two purses, pre¬ 
cisely similar in appearance, and, even in his then 
critical position, had the presence of mind to sub¬ 
stitute the false one for the other filled with gold. 

When Andreas told this story of the past he 
hastened to add that he had never been so danger¬ 
ously pressed since. 





SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 


67 


CHAPTER IX. 

SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 

The three associates at first traveled together 
and did some good strokes of business in certain 
gambling dens of the capital. But it was quickly 
perceived that, as the Greeks increased and multi¬ 
plied, the dupes became rarer. They therefore 
formed a clandestine gambling den, at the head of 
which they placed a very respectable lady of their 
i acquaintance, Madame de Haut Castel, called fa¬ 
miliarly the Pompadour. 

\ Chaffard was charged with the duty of finding 
dupes, and of even dragging them from the other 
hells. 

The establishment appeared to prosper for some 
time, then one fine day it was perceived that affairs 
became more and more difficult. Many visitors who 
had been introduced as dupes, after being well 
fleeced by the Greeks, entered into business on their 
own account, and took their revenge on newcomers, 
and plucked them with great address considering 
jtheir inexperience. 

/ Andreas soon suspected the good faith of the 
Prevot (Chaffard), and quickly discovered that 
that subtle scoundrel, with the assistance of the 
Pompadour, whose lover he had become, had started 
a high school of card-sharping, in which for big 
fees he taught unlucky players how to avert ruin 
by correcting the uncertainties of fortune. 

The other two associates, exasperated at this 
crime, wished to show their anger, but they feared 
the sword of Chaffard. They contented themselves 




68 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


with hiding their resentment and trying to equal 
the cunning of their false brother. 

Raymond and Andreas made up their minds to 
quit Paris, on the pretext of working the bathing- 
places during the summer season, leaving the es¬ 
tablishment in the capital to the care of Chaffard, 
with power, if that appeared to him a wise course, 
to close it. 

While traveling the two rascals employed their 
leisure in organizing tricks of the most perfidious 
subtlety. They studied especially a certain trick 
practiced more or less cleverly by Greeks, termed 
Service, and which is nothing but imperceptible (to 
the uninitiated) signalling. 

This was their plan and place of operations: 

The two associates directed their steps toward r 
fashionable bathing town, a place which is gener¬ 
ally the point of attraction of players more or less 
honest. . 1 

Raymond, called the Marquis, takes the leading 
part. He is the first to arrive, stops at the best 
hotel, and passes for a rich young man of good 
family. He is careful to avoid being taken for a 
Russian prince or an Englishman, because botl: 
characters have been so used up by the Greeks thal 
they waken suspicion at once. People now know i 
very well the names of Russian princes and those i 
of rich English families; the Greek cannot at pres- e 
ent create new titles, or assume those of the two ! 
countries in question. 

At the table d’hote of his hotel, Raymond, by his? 
politeness, the ease and simplicity of his manners, 
captivated those present. . [ 

After the repast he joined his companions in j 
their walks, drives, and other amusements, and at ft 
last gambled with them. 






SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 


69 


If he decided to play it was with much reserve 
d moderation. He contented himself with ob- 
•ving their play; that is to say, he studied the 
itne of his future victims, and did not touch a 
•d till the arrival of his accomplice. 

The two sharpers met, but they pretended to be 
angers; they even affected to have different 
nners and tastes. 

Andreas approached the gambling tables with a 
tain indifference; made bets out of idleness of 
nd rather than taste; he refused to take a hand 
the pretext that he knew very little of play. 

| Nevertheless the moment arrived for these gentle- 
: n to begin business; they are engaged at ecarte. 
Raymond held the cards. 

!n order to inspire confidence he lost at first some 
jnes, and gave up the hands. 

13e played again when the play was more ani- 
: ted and the stakes high. 

Andreas is his opponent, but his bets are so 
I dest that the difference in the gains of the society 
I st be very slight. 

'hat cunning accomplice stands upright behind 
victim, and, facing his associate; the hands 
ced behind his back, he appears to take slight in- 
3 st in the game. However, he follows it with 
reme attention, and surrenders himself in the in- 
}st of the society to the delicate work of sig- 
ling. 

will attempt, succinctly, to explain this terrible 
: kery: 

Signalling. 

dthough there are thirty-two cards in the game 
1 piquet, we may define them all as of twelve 
: erent kinds, viz., eight orders and four suits. 

L t ecarte the number of orders is reduced again 







68 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


with hiding their resentment and trying to eq^L 
the cunning of their false brother. 

Raymond and Andreas made up their minds fc( 
quit Paris, on the pretext of working the bathi 
places during the summer season, leaving the 
tablishment in the capital to the care of Chaff; 
with power, if that appeared to him a wise cou e 
to close it. 

While traveling the two rascals employed tl 
leisure in organizing tricks of the most perfidibs 
subtlety. They studied especially a certain t:ph 
practiced more or less cleverly by Greeks, ten 
Service, and which is nothing but imperceptible 
the uninitiated) signalling. 

This was their plan and place of operations 

The two associates directed their steps towai 
fashionable bathing town, a place which is ge: r 
ally the point of attraction of players more or 
honest. 

Raymond, called the Marquis, takes the leac 
part. He is the first to arrive, stops at the |s, 
hotel, and passes for a rich young man of gbci 
family. He is careful to avoid being taken f< 
Russian prince or an Englishman, because 1 
characters have been so used up by the Greeks 
they waken suspicion at once. People now k 
very well the names of Russian princes and t 
of rich English families; the Greek cannot at \ 
ent create new titles, or assume those of the 
countries in question. 

At the table d’hote of his hotel, Raymond, bj 
politeness, the ease and simplicity of his mam 
captivated those present. 

After the repast he joined his companion 




th 

at 

)W 

'St! 

S-5 

WO' 


11SI 

rs, 


their walks, drives, and other amusements, an 
last gambled with them. 








SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 


69 


II If he decided to play it was with much reserve 
Ind moderation. He contented himself with ob- 
[serving their play; that is to say, he studied the 
[game of his future victims, and did not touch a 
Icard till the arrival of his accomplice. 

The two sharpers met, but they pretended to be 
strangers; they even affected to have different 
manners and tastes. 

Andreas approached the gambling tables with a 
certain indifference; made bets out of idleness of 
mind rather than taste; he refused to take a hand 
on the pretext that he knew very little of play. 

Nevertheless the moment arrived for these gentle¬ 
men to begin business; they are engaged at ecarte. 
I* Raymond held the cards. 

In order to inspire confidence he lost at first some 
games, and gave up the hands. 

He played again when the play was more ani¬ 
mated and the stakes high. 

Andreas is his opponent, but his bets are so 
modest that the difference in the gains of the society 
must be very slight. 

That cunning accomplice stands upright behind 
his victim, and, facing his associate; the hands 
placed behind his back, he appears to take slight in¬ 
terest in the game. However, he follows it with 
extreme attention, and surrenders himself in the in¬ 
terest of the society to the delicate work of sig¬ 
nalling. 

\ I will attempt, succinctly, to explain this terrible 



Signalling . 


| Although there are thirty-two cards in the game 
of piquet, we may define them all as of twelve 
different kinds, viz., eight orders and four suits. 

At ecarte the number of orders is reduced again. 




70 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


because players content themselves by noting the^ 
numbers. 

But to make the signals it is necessary, according 
to certain authors, to use the pocket handkerchief, 
cough, sneeze, drum on the table, etc. 

One must have a very bad opinion of the ability 
of Greeks to suppose them capable of such simple 
tactics. In truth, such noises could not fail to ’ 
awaken the attention of those present, and to estab- r 
lish the charge of gross cheating. 3 

No, the countryman of Homer does not conde-^ 
scend to such baby tricks, and, unhappily for his. j 
victims, the signals he uses are only perceptible t& 0 


his accomplice. f 

The reader may judge by the following example: 
If the accomplice looks at— 

1st. His associate, he designs.A King.**. 

2nd. The play of his opponent, he designs . . A Queen. s 

3rd. The stakes, he designs.A Knave. 

4th. The opposite side, he designs . . . . An Ace. 

And at the same time that he indicates the value i 


of the cards, he also makes known the suits by the 


following signals: 

1st. The mouth slightly open.Hearts, f 

2nd. The mouth closed.Diamonds.^ 

3rd. The upper lip placed lightly on the lower. . Clubs’- 
4th. The lower lip placed lightly on the upper. . Spades. 


Thus, for instance, should the Greek desire tag 
announce to his acomplice the queen, the knave and*> 
the ace of hearts, he directs successively his looks 
on the play of the opponent, on the stakes, and oni 
the opposite side, always keeping the mouth slightly 
open. 

You may understand now that signalling may be 
employed at all games where spectators are present. 
In fact, nothing is easier at piquet than to indicate, 







SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 


71 


by signals, the color one should avoid, and that 
which it is necessary to retain. 

I have only believed it necessary to give as ex¬ 
amples the easiest and simplest signals, and I will 
add that some Greeks have a great number for the 
purpose of indicating nearly all things, and, at 
need, of exchanging advice. The telegraphing is so 
imperceptible that it is difficult to describe it, and 
altogether impossible to offer a definition. 

The Greek who has the cards cannot always win; 
and now and then, after a game of four or five 
deals, he retires from the game, losing, after the in¬ 
dications furnished by his accomplice. He terms 
t* at the act of retreat. In that case the accomplice 
has been careful to double his stake to compensate 
that voluntary sacrifice. 

j Andreas and Raymond had, in addition to all I 
have described, the arsenal of trickeries produced 
,uy the study of the most difficult conjuring. In 
rorder to render its application more productive, the 
two Greeks made what they termed double strokes. 

Thus, for instance, they found themselves to¬ 
gether at the same table at bouillotte, and, as they 
^were supposed to be strangers, they assumed to each 
>ther an air of cold indifference which enabled them 
' o exercise with impunity their common rascalities. 
^ Instead of cheating for his own benefit, as one 
'night believe, the one with the cards gave himself 
he worst, while he gave his accomplice the oppor¬ 
tunity of brilliant and successful play. 

,j Frequently, even, by excess of cunning, while 
jiving his confederate a bunch of kings, he gave 
1H o one of the two dupes, a run of queens, in order 
o make the latter bolder in play, which would re- 
ult in his increasing his stake. 

’ How could the good fortune of these scoundrels 



72 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


awaken suspicion when they both never appears 
to win at cards? 

It was Boulogne-sur-Mer that Andreas an 
Raymond had selected for the scene of their rascall 
maneuvers. The society there was rich and joy 
ous. The harvest was abundant. Still, it was 
little reduced by the participation in it of Achil] 
Chauvignac, a sharper of the place, who indicate 
the possibility of business. 

Here I am compelled to enter into a short exph 
nation. 

In hearing people continually talk of enormoi 
profits, the reader will perhaps think that tl 
Greeks end by becoming millionaires and transfor] 
their profits in good investments or in buyin 
estates. 

That is not the case. 

Notwithstanding the great gains, this class nev< 
conquer the future; one may truly state that of or 
hundred Greeks ninety-nine plus one die in mi 
erable poverty. 

I explain the fact thus: 

The recruits for the army of Greeks are take 
from those whom debauch and prodigality have 1( 
to ruin. Now nothing is less likely to cause peop 
to return to the paths of order and economy thz 
trickery. 

Every Greek is debauched, prodigal, and lux 
rious to the extent of his means. 

These gentlemen, far from proportioning the 
expenses to their gains, discount the future and li’ 
in an impossible luxury. They keep horses and mi 
tresses, and they make a claim on each other’s co: 
sideration based on their extravagance. 

The Greek, although it is difficult to credit : 
loses his own money at play. Yes, this man, w] 




SECRET GAMBLING HELLS. 


73 


is satiated with material enjoyments, has need of 
the emotions of the gambler; but he must have real 
play. 

He resorts to roulette or to trente et quarante. 
In these games the stakes in the hands of the 
hanker are passive instruments; the Greek finds 
himself in a chamber of justice. The fortune that 
he has so often corrected has her revenge in resum¬ 
ing her rights. Her reprisals are severe. 


74 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER X. 

BLEEDING THE DOCTOR. 

The traveling of the two sharpers should, on leav¬ 
ing Boulogne, conduct them to the South of France, 
but they were delayed by an affair proposed by 
Chauvignac. 

It was a question of annexing some notes of a 
thousand francs from a doctor residing at Saint- 
Omer, who had a devouring passion for play. 

Chauvignac was to give all the information 
requisite, and, modest man! only asked for one- 
third of the plunder as a return for his services. 

Only, as he was an intimate friend of the doctor, 
it was agreed that he was to be a sleeping partner 
in the plot. 

The two industrious Greeks did not delay long; 
a few days after they were to be seen descending 
at the Hotel d ’Angleterre, the best at Saint-Omer. 

Andreas played the part of a rich capitalist from 
Paris, seduced by the beauty of the place and the 
simplicity of the manners of the inhabitants, de¬ 
siring to become better acquainted with both. 

He was accompanied by a friend who was qual¬ 
ified to advise him in the matter. 

They made many excursions, obtained much in¬ 
formation; but nothing appeared to quite satisfy 
the intending purchaser of an estate. 

As a result of these pursuits and inquiries the 
millionaire announced his intention of returning to 
Paris, and even as he was preparing for his de¬ 
parture was taken suddenly ill. 

At his request the best doctor in the town, the 


BLEEDING THE DOCTOR. 76 

dear friend of Chauvignac, the enthusiastic gam¬ 
bler, was sent for. 

The son of Aesculapius, on visiting his new 
patient, inquired about the causes of his illness and 
the nature of his symptoms. 

‘‘Alas, sir,” said Andreas, in a weak, sad voice, 
“I cannot inform you what has provoked the ill¬ 
ness which nails me to my bed to-day; but what I 
do know is that I suffer horribly in my head. I 
unfortunately have ground for dreading, from 
what I feel now, a return of brain fever from which 
I have suffered before.” 

“Do not alarm yourself,” returned the doctor, 
soothingly, “we will try to drive away the fever 
by a copious bleeding.” 

Andreas submitted even to this severe treatment, 
and when it was accomplished declared himself 
better. 

“I will return to see you to-morrow,” said the 
doctor, and then took leave of his imaginary in¬ 
valid. 

“Oh, doctor, pray return to-day,” implored 
Andreas, “because I feel the need of your constant 
attention.” 

The doctor promised and returned in a few 
hours. He felt the patient’s pulse, and finding it 
still high ordered his diet and advised absolute re¬ 
pose. 

When the doctor had gone Andreas took off a 
ligature that he had tied on his arm to modify the 
action of the pulse, took an excellent repast, and 
patiently awaited the return of his dupe. 

Some days passed, during which Raymond ap¬ 
peared never to quit the bedside of his friend; it 
was a beautiful instance of unselfish devotion. Our 
Greeks had thought it wise, in such grave eircum- 


76 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


stances, to send for two members of the sick man’s 
family, who were duly presented to the doctor. 

These two gentlemen, who were supposed to be 
nephews of the capitalist, were supernumerary 
sharpers on hire, who had come from Paris to assist 
the swindle at the rate of ten francs a day. Their 
role consisted in seconding the maneuvers of their 
chief. 

The illness did not develop, as you would expect. 
Andreas was soon in a condition of promising con¬ 
valescence. 

To pass the time for the poor fellow, his two 
nephews and friend played at cards with him while 
he lay in bed. 

The play becomes animated; gold rolls on the 
carpet. The family must be very rich! 

“Look here, doctor,” said Andreas one night. 
* ‘ I believe a little distraction would hasten my con¬ 
valescence. You have a lucky countenance; do 
me the favor to hold this hand for me at ecarte. I 
stake ten louis.” 

The doctor, as much to please himself as to 
gratify his patient, eagerly accepted. 

He had a splendid hand and won six times in 
succession, and handed the invalid sixty louis. 

“I am delighted,” he said, “at having fulfilled 
the trust reposed in me; but I am ignorant whether 
the result is to be attributed to my luck or to 
yours. ’ ’ 

“But, my dear doctor,” returned Andreas, “it 
only rests with yourself to prove that point. Play 
for yourself; I will bet for you, because you will 
be utilizing your vein of luck. ’ ’ 

The doctor required no further urging; he 
played with wonderful luck, and in a short time 
had won one hundred louis. 




BLEEDING THE DOCTOR. 


77 


“Decidedly you bring me fortune, 5 ’ said An¬ 
dreas to his partner. “But that is enough for to¬ 
night. I have need of repose. I ask pardon of 
these gentlemen for retiring after winning; but to¬ 
morrow, if you like, we will resume the play, and, 
thanks to you, I hope we shall further despoil my 
nephews, to cure them of the passion of gambling. 
If you succeed in that, doctor, it will not be the 
least valuable cure you have effected during your 
practice. ’ ’ 

Less actuated by philanthropy than by the at¬ 
traction of a vein of good luck so happily opened, 
the doctor did not fail to keep his engagement; he 
u turned the next evening at his accustomed hour. 
The nephews were in the room. 

To finish with his duties as doctor, he felt the 
patient’s pulse, and, finding him in admirable con¬ 
dition, he prepared for play. 

The table was prepared, as usual, close to the 
bed of Andreas, and the game began. 

To despoil the more completely the poor doctor, 
he was permitted to win a few louis. This volun¬ 
tary loss is called, in the vocabulary of the Greeks, 
bait, as it permits them to increase the stakes, and 
thus increases the plunder. 

It happened so in this instance, for no sooner 
were bank notes alone on the table than the vein 
of luck suddenly changed. 

The doctor, until then the beloved of fortune, 
saw himself the victim of the most crushing bad 
luck, and, at the termination of the sitting, the loss 
amounted, on his side, to the sum of thirty thou¬ 
sand francs each. 

We need hardly say that there was only one vic¬ 
tim, the losses of Andreas, which were only made 


78 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


to inspire his victim with confidence, being, of 
course, remitted by his accomplices. 

They judged the poor doctor sufficiently bled, 
considering his modest fortune; besides, they 
feared that if they charged too much the first act of 
the tragedy, some legal catastrophe might wreck 
the climax of the play. Thus, on the next, day, the 
sick man found himself sufficiently recovered to 
travel, pay his farewell visit to the unfortunate 
doctor, and quit the town without delay. 


I 


THE PASTE RING. 


79 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE PASTE RING. 

Some time after the last adventure the two 
Greeks found themselves at Lyons, resolved to 
obtain information about the clubs of the town 
and on the characteristics of the people frequent¬ 
ing them. One of these is pointed out as the resort 
of passionate gamblers, and, amongst other details 
that were supplied them of its members, they were 
informed that a man named Beroli was a great 
lover of precious stones. 

The mania of this man was to make what he 
called bargains; that is to say, he used his great 
knowledge of the subject to buy cheaply from per¬ 
sons who had not, as he said, his delicate apprecia* 
tion. 

Such transactions ought perhaps to be termed 
cheating, if it had not been for many years a set¬ 
tled opinion that such actions are quite legitimate, 
and that it is quite right, between buyers and 
sellers, to endeavor to deceive. Do not we meet 
every day with people who boast of having obtained 
from a tradesman, by false representations, an 
article at cost price, while, on the other hand, the 
seller rubs his hands at having disposed of damaged 
goods? There are even, I am informed, in certain 
shops special bonuses given to the salesmen for 
getting rid of damaged and old-fashioned articles 
to foolish purchasers. 

However that may be, the mania of Beroli in¬ 
spired Goldenhead with the most perfidious de¬ 
ception. 


80 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


He engaged Raymond to cajole at the club tl 
amateur of precious stones, while he visited Pai 
to prepare for the execution of a scheme of whi< 
for the present he would divulge nothing. 

Fifteen days later, thanks to the able assistan 
of Raymond, Andreas returned from his journe 
and was welcomed at the same club so much fr 
cuented by his accomplice. 

The two Greeks were not supposed to know ea< i 
other; both devoted themselves independently 1 
a particular work. 

Raymond dealt successfully with some ri( f 
landed proprietors, while Andreas contented hir 
self, every night, with some innocent games j c 
ecarte with his new friend, Beroli. 

From the first day of their intercourse Bero q 
remarked a magnificent ring on Andreas’ finger 

‘‘What a splendid diamond you have there!i 
he said, with an air of envy. 

“You think so?” said Andreas, indifferentl; 
and continuing the game; “trump—diamonds. T 
cut a spade worth nothing; you win.” 

But Beroli did not take his eyes from tb 
precious ring; its brilliancy appeared to fascinali 
km. p 

Each day the ring was greeted with new ei 
clamations, to which his adversary appeared ir K 
sensible. 

At last one night Beroli would compel his pla? y ( 
fcl ow to depart from his reserve about the ring. 

“What did that ring cost you?” he inquired. 

“Do you ask that question seriously, my dea 
sir?” returned Andreas. 

“Most seriously, sir,” replied Beroli. 

“Very well: I will give you an explanation. ] rf 
I have not before responded to your different e: 


ft 






THE PASTE RING. 81 

l 

jclamations, it is only because I thought you were 
! joking. Now that I am assured of the contrary, I 
am compelled to inform you that you have slight 
? claims to be considered a connoisseur, because the 
superb diamond that appears to have dazzled you 
t is in reality only paste. ’ ’ 

“What—how? Paste?” said, with an irritated 
air, the amateur of precious stones. “You are 
:laughing at me.” 

“On the contrary, I speak most seriously,’’ re¬ 
plied Andreas. 

] “But you astonish me. Let me see the ring more 
iclosely,” said Beroli, taking the hand of Andreas 
and fixing his eyes on the ring, which he made 
[sparkle by moving Andreas’ hand. 

‘ ‘ Tell others that story; it will not go down with 
me,” he said. “Your stone is a true diamond; it 
is I who tell you so. ’ ’ 

“Very well; I have no objection,” said Andreas, 
with supreme indifference. “Come, it is your 
play. ’ ’ 

And the two players continued their game. 

Beroli appeared preoccupied, and constantly re¬ 
garded the ring. 

At the end of some instants he could control him¬ 
self no longer. 

I am so convinced that it is a fine stone that, if 
you are willing to sell it, I will buy it.” 

“I do not intend to sell it,” replied Andreas. 

“Why not?” inquired Beroli. 

“Because, in the first place, I would not rob you; 
and in the second, it is a family relic that I should 
not like to part with. I had it from an uncle, who 
received it from his father. This jewel has been 
a hundred years in my family under the name of 
the ‘Paste Ring.’ I carry it because there is at- 


82 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


tributed to it a sovereign power against headache, 
to which I am subject. 

‘ ‘ But if you were offered a good price, ’’ pleaded 
Beroli. 

“If you offered me four times its value I would 
not part with it. ’ ’ 

“It is not a question of four times,’’ said the 
ardent amateur, “but rather of a hundred times 
the value you attach to the stone.” 

Andreas cut short the pleadings of Beroli by con¬ 
tinuing the game. 

“Diamonds,” he said. “I score again.” 

The game finished, Beroli, who held to his repu¬ 
tation as an amateur of precious stones, returned 
to the subject. 

“I am so convinced of the truth of my judg¬ 
ment,” he said, “that I am always willing to buy 
it for a diamond.” 

“Ah! if I were a sharper,” replied Goldenhead, 
“how readily I would let you have my paste ring, 
to teach you that one should not always depend on 
his own judgment.” 

“Look here,” said Beroli, “will you lend it me 
until to-morrow, and I will go, to settle my mind, 
and show it to a friend of mine, a jeweler?” 

Andreas granted his request, gave him the ring 
with assumed indifference, and they separated. 

The amateur rushed at once to his friend’s shop 
and showed him the ring. 

The jeweler examined it very critically, and then 
indorsed his friend’s opinion. 

“It is a diamond of the first water,” he said, 
“and I should do a good stroke of business if I 
paid twelve thousand francs for it.” 

The next day Beroli met Andreas with an air of 
triumph. 


THE PASTE RING. 


83 


“My dear sir,” he said, “I can now avow with 
rtainty that you and yonr family are in error, 
ace a hundred years, as to the value of your ring, 
ae paste in question is a true diamond. I offer 
>u six thousand francs for it.” 

Andreas did not reply. They began to play; 
it during the game the indefatigable Beroli would 
turn to his one subject, and offered successively 
gher prices, to tempt his adversary. He in time 
ached the sum of nine thousand francs. 

Andreas continued inflexible, and only, as offer 
cceeded offer, made a negative gesture. 

When they were on the point of separating, 
3roli formed a sudden determination. 

“Look here,” he said, placing ten bank notes of 
thousand francs each on the table, “there is my 
st word. Say ‘yes’ and let us finish.” 

“You would absolutely be deceived?” 

“Yes, I hold to it,” replied the amateur, wag- 
shly, looking at the ring which he still wore on 
s finger. 

“Ah, well, it is yours, since you are so deter- 
ined to have it. Let me remove the hair of my 
irthy uncle who has caused me to make ten tliou- 
nd francs; it is concealed behind the stone. I 
tie counted on this piece of good luck. There is 
>thing like being a connoisseur. There you are; 
ke your ring, and thanks.” 

Early the next day the radiant Beroli went to see 
l s friend the jeweler again. 

“I am the possessor of the famous diamond,’’ he 
, id, almost before he was in the shop. “There it 
; examine it again; is it not beautiful ? But I 
j all want more for it when I sell it than the sum 
j»u mentioned.” 

| “You think so,” said the jeweler, taking the ring 




84 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


in order to examine it again. “Eh, but!” he ex¬ 
claimed, “what is this?? This a diamond? It is 
only paste! ’ ’ 

The trick was played and won. Andreas, under 
the pretext of withdrawing the hair of his ven¬ 
erated uncle, had cleverly changed the ring for an¬ 
other identical in appearance, with the exception 
that the stone was paste. 

The night of the exchange sufficed to enable the 
cheat to escape the indignation of his victim. 

“Any one who did not know the intelligence, the 
dogged obstinacy, and the untiring perseverance of 
Beroli,” said Raymond, in telling me the story, 
“would have considered that the diamond ring was 
forever lost. ’ ’ 

That was not the case. 

After so rude and cruel a deception, our ama¬ 
teur, far from being cast down, felt his mind 
braced; he vowed to discover his adversary and 
obtain a just revenge. 

In examining the ring Beroli first assured him¬ 
self that the Government hall-mark was duly made 
on it. 

The ring was therefore in gold; that discovery 
was a feeble consolation, without doubt; but it led 
him to believe that the true ring carried the same 
stamp. 

If both rings, he said then, have passed under 
the eyes of the officer appointed to stamp them, it 
is impossible to credit, considering the size of the 
stones, they have not been remarked by him. 

This simple reflection was to Beroli the point of 
departure in his tenacious pursuit of Andreas. 

Furnished with a letter of introduction by his 
friend the jeweler, he goes to Paris, and after that 


THE PASTE RING. 


85 


straight to the Mint, and presents his ring to the 
manager. 

He remembers perfectly the two jewels, and gives 
Beroli the address of the jeweler who made them. 

Beroli then ascertains that Andreas resides at 
No. 13 Rue Cadet. 

Any one but Beroli would have delivered An¬ 
dreas into the hands of the police; but as the cun¬ 
ning fellow thought little of satisfying justice and 
much of obtaining his beloved-diamond, he thought 
it more prudent to occupy his mind with that deli¬ 
cate affair. 

He visits the concierge of the Rue Cadet, and, 
giving him a piece of twenty francs, tells him a 
false story which is designed to win his confidence. 
He informs him that the daughter of one of his 
friends, living in the country, has been asked in 
marriage by M. Andreas, his lodger; that he ad¬ 
dresses him for the purpose of obtaining informa¬ 
tion, reasonably thinking that he could not come 
to a better source. 

The concierge, delighted with the amiable man¬ 
ners, and flattered by the confidence of his ques* 
tioner, informed him, under the seal of secrecy, 
that his lodger kept a mistress and passed his nights 
away. 

Beroli was sufficiently informed; he said fare¬ 
well to the discreet Pipelet, and that same night he 
placed himself on guard near the door of the wan¬ 
dering Greek. 

At ten o’clock Andreas left his lodging and 
walked towards an isolated house at the top of the 
Rue Pigale. 

Beroli followed and saw him enter the house, 
shortly followed by about twenty men of all ages. 

He concealed himself in the porch of a neighbor- 


86 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


ing dwelling and made his observations. He no¬ 
ticed that every time the bell was pulled the door 
was opened by a servant, who carried a torch, and 
there appeared to be a strict scrutiny made of each 
visitor before he was allowed to pass. 

This reunion of men, the mysterious receptions, 
the absence of a concierge, etc., all these circum¬ 
stances combined, induced Beroli to believe it was 
a clandestine gambling hell. What confirmed this 
opinion was that although there were four win¬ 
dows, none were lighted, and the house looked un* 
inhabited. 

The clever amateur detective made up his mind 
to have still more convincing evidence; to this end 
he resolved to remain on the watch until the end 
of the meeting, and during that time he elaborated 
a plan of attack with great address. 

At four o’clock in the morning the door opened. 
An individual, after looking round in every direc¬ 
tion, left the house and walked towards Beroli. 

“Sir,” said the latter, rapidly, so as to preclude 
the possibility of reflection, “has every one left?” 

“Why do you ask?” returned the unknown. 

“Because the police are near the house and about 
to surround it. I came with the intention of warn¬ 
ing a friend of mine who is within.” 

“Thanks, M. Friend,” said the man, and con¬ 
tinued his way very rapidly. 

“If that man,” thought Beroli, “was only a 
dupe he would have nothing to dread on leaving the 
house. His eagerness to escape proves that he fears 
the police; he must therefore be a sharper. ’ ’ 

Strong in this wise conclusion, the amateur of 
precious stones followed him, and when he slack¬ 
ened his pace, he hastened his and overtook him. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “for making 



THE PASTE RING. 


87 


you walk so rapidly. I only wished, by my false 
intelligence, to prove you were one of us, and I 
have succeeded.” 

“Kindly explain; I do not understand you,” re¬ 
turned the stranger. 

“I think you will comprehend when I inform 
you that I am a companion of Andreas,” said Be¬ 
roli. 

“What are you driving at in all this?” inquired 
the other. 

“To make you an offer,” said Beroli. “Would 
you like to make two thousand francs?” 

“Explain yourself.” 

“You are acquainted with Andreas?” 

“Excuse me, I have not admitted that.” 

“You are acquainted with Andreas, and I wish 
to inform you that he has treated me abominably , 9 9 
said Beroli. 

“That is very possible,” said the unknown, in a 
low tone. 

“I intend to revenge myself, and to further that 
end I require your help.” 

“What do you wish done?” 

“Nearly nothing. It is only a question of at¬ 
tracting Andreas to a house I will indicate, under 
the pretext that you will introduce him to a com* 
pany where there are some dupes easy to cheat; 
the rest is my affair.” 

“It is agreed. When and where?’ 

“To-morrow—No. 22 Rue Meslay, second floor,” 
said Beroli. 

Next day, in the morning, Beroli’s new ally went 
in search 'of Andreas, and made him his treacher¬ 
ous proposal. Andreas, confiding in his new ac¬ 
complice, accepted the more cheerfully because the 
business of the Rue Pigale was becoming bad. 


88 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


On the same night the two Greeks rang the bell 
at the Rue Meslay. A servant admitted them, and 
opened the door of a brilliantly lighted room. 

Andreas, without the slightest suspicion, en¬ 
tered first, but he was no sooner in the room than 
his companion, according to his orders, closed the 
door on him, double locked it and left the house. 
At the same moment Beroli and two strong fellows 
prmnted themselves from a room near. 

“You doubtless know me,” said the former, in a 
strong, severe voice, “and fully understand the 
question we have to discuss ? ’ ’ 

“What do you mean, sir?” said Andreas, pre¬ 
tending to be very indignant. “I call upon you, in 
the first place, to explain the meaning of this am¬ 
bush. Am I amongst assassins or robbers?” 

“Don’t take that tone,” replied Beroli, or you 
may have cause to repent it. What you term an 
ambush is an indulgent attempt at conciliation. ’ ’ 

“What do you mean by indulgence?” returned 
Andreas. “What have you to reproach me with? 
You offered me ten thousand francs for a ring and 
I accepted the offer. Did I not hand you the 
ring ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir, but you omitted to mention that the 
stone you gave me was false,” replied Beroli. 

“Why, good heavens, sir,” replied Andreas, with 
the greatest coolness, “I am far from denying that 
fact; I informed you of it so many times that you 
cannot forget it. Besides, did not you say to me, in 
paying the ten thousand francs, that you knew the 
stone was false, but in spite of that you had made 
up your mind to be the possessor?” 

‘ ‘ Do not play with w r ords; come to the fact, ’ ’ 
returned Beroli. “You must restore me the ring 
yon cheated me of.” 


THE PASTE RING. 


89 


“To avoid further persistence on your part, sir, 
allow me to state that I never had any other ring 
than the one I sold,” replied Andreas. 

“If that is the case yon will not hesitate to copy 
this note and send it to your mistress,” returned 
Beroli, handing the paper to him. 

“I must first examine it,” said Andreas, who 
read as follows: 

“22, Rue Meslay. 

“My Dear Friend: 

“I can make a fine stroke of business here, but 
have need of my diamond ring for the purpose. 
Bring it yourself to the above address, confide it to 
no one else. The bearer of this note will hand you 
my keys. At eleven o’clock I shall be at the door 
to meet you. Take a cab so as to be exact. 

“Andreas.” 

“I will never write it,” exclaimed Andreas. 

“ I do not intend to ask you often. Once for all, 
yes, or no?” 

“No, a thousand times, no.” 

“Baptiste, run to the commissaire of police,” 
said Beroli, addressing one of the two men. “Run, 
ana don’t return without him.” 

‘ ‘ A moment, a moment! ’ ’ said Andreas; 1 ‘ let us 
see if some way of accommodation can be arranged. 
What terms do you offer in order to settle the af¬ 
fair ?” 

“No compromise; you must copy that letter,” 
said Beroli, firmly. 

Thinking, perhaps, that he might escape or evade 
his enemy when tie descended to take the ring from 
his mistress, or from whatever cause, he seated him¬ 
self at the table, on which all necessary writing 


90 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


materials were placed, and under the vigilant in-, 
spection of Beroli he exactly copied the note. 

Two hours later Andreas was free, and Beroli 
held in his hand the famous ring. This is what ‘ 
passed: 

Andreas’ mistress had hastened in a cab to de¬ 
liver the precious ring; but she had no sooner 
reached the house indicated in the letter, than a 
police officer wearing his scarf, accompanied by a ; 
subordinate, entered the vehicle, and ordered the 
driver to go to the Rue Jerusalem, the principal: 
police office. 

On the way the officer explained to the lady that 
having been ordered by the chief of police to sur¬ 
round the house in which ^ndreas was then de¬ 
tained, as a secret gambling hell, he had arrested 
the bearer of the letter, and after mastering its 
contents, had replaced the messenger by one of his (' 
men. 

“We have apprehended every one in the house,; 
and I am compelled, madam, seeing you are an 
accomplice, to conduct you to the police office. Al- j 
low me also to take possession of the ring, for fear j 
you might mislay it; ” and the officer as he spoke i 
removed from the finger of the woman the diamond 
ring, not without a little resistance. 

They soon arrived at the Rue Jerusalem; mid¬ 
night sounded from the big clock, it was a dark and 
gloomy night. 

‘ ‘ The concierge shall open the door for us, ’ ’ said 
the officer to his subordinate as they both dis¬ 
mounted, closing the cab door quietly on the mis¬ 
tress of Andreas. 

Two minutes had hardly passed after the two 
men had left the carriage, wnen a voice was raised 
in the street. 



THE PASTE RING. 91 

‘You must not draw up before this door,” it 
d to the driver. 

‘That is true,” he replied, “but I have no or- 
•s. Madam,” he added, lowering a glass, “where 
ill I drive you?” 

‘Where shall you drive me? But what? . . . 
- ive to the Rue Cadet. . . . No, drive to the place 
4i brought me from, she said, in a tremblig 
r ce. 

‘Go ahead, old girl,” the man said to his horse, 
eking his whip. “It’s our last journey.” 
f the reader has not divined it, I will inform 

I i or her that the police officer and man were two 
, ors in the clever comedy invented by Beroli; 

II the two performers, instead of addressing 
1 mselves to the concierge of the police office, had, 
i ing advantage of the darkness of the night, dis- 

>eared, and in a short time had delivered tho 
I cious ring to the astute amateur of diamonds. 




92 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XII. 

I 

AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 

The principal point of operations of the Societ; 
of Philosophers was situated in the Pas-de-Calais: 
because they were often set to work by Achill 
Chauvignac, who had formerly procured them th 
little business with the doctor at Saint-Omer. 

Chauvignac was extremely ardent in affairs or 
the kind, which, without placing him in the slight 
est danger, permitted him to secure large profits i:i 
return for his infamous indications. 

His most intimate friends were those he prd 
ferred as victims for the spoiler. He kept them i j 
mind like valuable stock. Each player was entere ] 
according to the amount of his fortune, as well a[ 
the ease with which he could be plucked. 

Thus Mr. B-was worth three thousan a 

francs; Mr. P- six thousand; Mr. C- wajr 

not of much value, because he was a poor player j 
still he might realize one thousand francs. Brk 
the best and richest dupe amongst the arder j 

gamblers was Mr. F-, believed to be pluckabla 

to the extent of fifteen or even twenty thousand 
francs. Q 

Andreas and Raymond worked the clubs c( 
Calais and Boulogne, but they dared not risk visi , 
ing Saint-Omer, fearing recognition. They sent i; e 
their place two able card-sharpers from Venetiijj 
formerly, as they averred, the cradle of trickery, 
The Society of Philosophers would not have cor j 
fided to their two representatives on the proportio , 
of profits due to them, if they had not been und« p 







I 


AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 93 

0 sleepless eye of Chauvignac. That astute 
mndrel, in addition to his own keen observation, 
d organized a singular system of control. 

For example, he addressed one of the two in the 
[lowing terms: 

“I have very little confidence in your friend; 
yfear he will deceive the Society; take careful 
s!te, therefore, of his gains; for that extra service 
leu shall be paid.” 

it After that he said just the same thing to his 
npanion, so that without suspicion each Gre'ek 
ihked after the other. 

t- The harvest reaped at Saint-Omer was very great, 
it the best part of it entered the pocket of 
uuvignac, whose division of the spoils was not at 
; conscientious, which was really quite to be 
i,pected. 

(It may have been the result of some indiscretion 
i the part of the philosophers, or from some other 
ise; but, at all events, the credit of Chauvignac 
(nmenced to decline in the opinion of his neigh- 
rs; people were astonished at the large expendi- 
?e of a man who possessed nothing; and besides, 
i frequent journeys to Paris without apparent 
>tive, his acquaintance with people of doubtful 
iracter, all these causes induced respectable per¬ 
is to be more reserved in their intercourse with 
n. 

Chauvignac was as clever as unprincipled; that 
a common combination; and the proof is that 
3 sharper is rarely a fool. Chauvignac with his 
atomary quickness of perception soon realized 
i position, and as the discredit into which he 
d fallen might be prejudicial to his interests, 
sought for the means of whitewashing his dingy 
3utation. 




94 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


Out of the young fools who shared his wild di^ 
sipations he had formed a little band, and amid^ 
them, conspicuous by his elegance and eccentricit y 
was Olivier de X-. 

The family of this scapegrace was one of tl^ 
oldest and most honorable of the country, whi( 
enjoyed on every side high consideration. 

Chauvignac turned his attention to this youiu 
gentleman for the purpose of recovering, through 
him, his old position in the opinion of his town, 
men. L 

He displayed, when in his society in pubL- 
places, a most familiar tone, raising his voice 
that his terms of intimacy might be heard. V 

The result did not satisfy Chauvignac; of tl- fl 
two friends, one lost the public respect, and tl' 
^ther did not regain it. i 

Chauvignac soon found out that he had mi, 
calculated, and if he consoled himself, it was t, ( 
thinking how he could utilize in another way h 
friend’s credit. 

The family of Olivier was not rich, and coul^ 
not do much for its son; in addition, in consequent^ 
of his extreme prodigality, the young man foun ^ 
himself in great distress; his credit was gone; il 
a word, he was overwhelmed with debt. 

His companion in pleasure was to him an obje< t | 
of envy and admiration; he saw him live like f 
prince, without being troubled by a creditor. 

One day he asked for an explanation of the prol j 
lem. 

“How do you manage it , 99 he inquired, ‘‘tha ! 
without any fortune, you satisfy all your tastes an 
fancies, while I, with some resources, am oblige 11 ’ 
to exist in privation and contract debts to d 1 
that?” ! 





AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


95 


This was the ground Chauvignac expected his 
npanion to occupy. He remained, however, some 
ie without replying, in order to give more im- 
.rtance to his confidences; then, with a diabolical 
;ile, he replied: 

3 ‘You would be happy to be as I am?” 

‘ Can you ask it ?’ ’ 

1 4 Well, it rests with you alone to be better off 
myself/’ 

‘What must I do for that?” replied Olivier, in a 
e of mingled pleasure and greed. 

Chauvignac considered his pupil sufficiently pre- 
•ed to receive his communication. 

‘Listen to me,” he said, with a mysterious air. 

1 ou must be acquainted with the wise and popu- 
1 aphorism, which dates almost from the creation : 

! ‘ ‘ Mankind are divided into two great divisions r 
! dupers and the dupes.’ 

' Consider, and reply frankly. To which cate- 
y do you prefer to belong?” 

But, ’ ’ replied the young scapegrace, astonished 
/his brusque question, “you take me unawares; 

31 r demand merits reflection.” 
c Well, we will make the reflections,” said the 

I vincial Mephistopheles, “and we will draw our 
strations of the subject from that immense and 
ley crowd called society.” 

'he two friends found themselves at the moment 
I able together at the door of one of the best cafes 
he town. It was Sunday; the weather was fine; 
heat number of persons were passing to and fro. 
.Look,” said Chauvignac; “you see that thin 
i, with bent back, shabby clothes, and sad look ? 
t unhappy being has devoted his life to paying 
: debts left him by a dying father. He is old; he 
slly has enough to eat; see, no one notices him. 





96 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


“Look at that fat fellow, puffed out with pri 
and insolence; see how self-satisfied he is; o 
might compare him to a peacock with spread U 
Well, he is a tradesman, who has never ceased 
introduce fraud and lying into his business. 0 
fine day he started as a banker and usurer. He 
more than a millionaire. . . . He condescends s 
patronizingly notice the people who bow abjec 
before him. f 

“The first man is a dupe, the second a duper.’ e 

“Or, to speak the whole truth,” said Olivi: 
“the first is an honest man and the second a r.|c 
cal.” 

“Be it so,” continued the tempter; “I agree w: ( 
you; but, behold another example, to which, , 
think, you will not make the same application. 

“You should know, better than anyone else,' 
young man full of heart, intelligence, and energ 
who, for want of sufficient fortune, leads a life, 
some respects, of privation and suffering. That mf 
is overwhelmed with debt, and if he attempts 
play to recover himself he is certain to lose. r 

“Near him, at this moment, is one of his frien 
who, without property or fortune, possesses a p 
ennial income. He is always lucky at play; and 5 
may flatter himself that he has no taste with<f 
the means of satisfying it. 

“The first of these two friends is a dupe, 1 
second is a-” 

Chauvignac paused to allow Olivier to compl 1 
the period. 

“What would you imply?” said Olivier, v 
began to comprehend. 

“What would I imply?” returned Chauvign! 
with shameless cynicism. “I would make you i 
derstand that that favorite of fortune, that lu< 1 






AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


97 


tiyer whose fortune excites your envy, is one of 
1 society of philosophers who possess means as 
i>tain as they are easy of assuring the favors of 
>tune.” 

i ‘But,” Olivier hastened to say, from an instinct 
honesty, “to cheat at play is the deed of a 
seal. ’ ’ 

‘It is on that point, my friend, that we are 
t agreed. Permit me to say that you are com- 
'rtely mistaken; I am about to prove it to you. 

( first kindly explain to me what you mean by 
bating at play.” 

, ‘ To cheat at play is to influence the game by 
1 derhand trickery, ’ ’ replied Olivier. 

‘Very good. If that is the case I will soon prove 
you that honest people do not scruple to use 
3kery. 

Every day perfectly honest people endeavor by 
ret means to turn fortune in their direction. 
‘One man, in placing himself at table for the 
•pose of play, takes the side nearest the door, 
ause he thinks it lucky. If he wins, he leaves 
gains in disorder, because he believes that if 
stopped to count and arrange it the lucky vein 
ild end. 

Others make amulets of the dried heart of a 
2 k fowl, the head of a beetle, or of a bit of the 
d of a rope with which some one has been 
ged. 

Now kindly answer me this question: What 
he purpose of these mysterious charms, except 
rain, in an underhand manner, another person’s 
jiey by turning in his favor the luck of the 
]ief 

Under these circumstances, if the result does 




98 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


not answer the expectations, it is perfectly fair 
form a judgment on the fact. 

“Between these means and ours there is on 
the difference between the thoughts and the tinge] 
The moral position is the same. 

“Yes, these honest people, in spite of what thi, 
say and do, are of our company; and if they < 
not venture further on the path of trickery th. 
they term illegal, it is because they dare not. e 
“I will even go further,” added Chauvigm 
excited by his own sophistry; “take an individr^ 
—one of those heroes of probity—show him h< 


to gain money with the certainty of never bei: } 
found out, and I am certain he will accept ti f 
chance. Believe me, I know much more than . 
venture to say. ’’ , 0 

“All that,” returned Olivier, “only proves the, 
are honest people who are not honest, but not tl 


cheating is not a crime. Besides, the law punisl 


it as such.” 

“That is true,” replied the cunning ChauvignY 1 
“but that does not prove the law is right. I ma e 
tain that the law is reprehensible, the art of c*; 
recting the chances of fortune really deserving c 2 


couragement. 

Olivier could not resist smiling. 

“I am speaking seriously,” added Chauvigm 1 ? 
“yes, the art of trickery at play is meritorio* 1 * 
and that is so because it is useful. If the Stjj 8 
had the slightest degree of intelligence, it woi ( 
not only be favorable to trickery, it would endtr 
it with rewards and recompense. ’ ’ 

“Then I no longer understand any moral 
said Olivier. tet 

“That is because you have never, like myscii; 
studied sound philosophy. Now, listen to me; “ 


AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


99 


iable you to understand, I will submit a compari- 
>n to your judgment. 

I “Many accidents occur through eating mush- 
!1 )oms. Well, if people were certain that mush- 

>oms were poisonous, no one would risk eating 
lem. 

“It may be the same with play. If one expected, 

II rery time one gambled, to be victimized, it is quite 
?rtain one would never run the risk. 

“Play would then become what it should be—a 
u mple unbending of the mind. 

1( “If such were the case, my dear friend, do you 
1 )t understand what a glorious thing the modern 
^reek would have accomplished, in doing more for 
1 Le cause of morality than all the moralists in the 
orld ? 

f “In addition, I avow to you that although I 
J ould not take a pin, I not only feel no scruple in 
iC greeting fortune, but, in using trickery, I am cer- 
in that I pursue an end eminently serviceable to 
3 e true interests of humanity. The art of cheat- 
f g at play is for me only the highest philosophy 
" tactically utilized.’’ 

Olivier listened with the greatest attention to his 
iend’s eloquent defense of the art of card-sharp- 
g. Signs of approval were visible, and his con- 
}1 ience began to succumb before so many sophis¬ 
ts 2 ated arguments. 

J Chauvignac perceived the effect he had pro- 
uced, and, continuing his pernicious task, said: 
“Let us examine the case. Is there room for 
j citation? On one side riches, pleasure, enjoy- 
ents of every kind; on the other, pitiless creditors, 
dn, poverty, and contempt.” 

“But,” said Olivier, in great excitement, sup- 
>se we are detected—what then ? ’ ’ 





100 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


“How childlike and timid you are!” returns 
the tempter. 4 4 Come with me within, and judge fo 
yourself how easy and secure it is. 

4 4 You see over there that big fellow, Benoit, wh 
has a nice little income. I will propose a little gam 
of piquet, which will enable him to pay our bi. 
here. It is a pity there is no need to make hii 
lose more.” 

Benoit is greeted by the two gentlemen, the gam 
is accepted, the desired result quickly follows, an 
the cafe bill is paid. 

Chauvignac and his friend leave the cafe, am 
when they are in the street, the former sums up h > 
pleadings in the following terms: 

4 4 It is as easy as that. What, is it nothing to 1 ] 
able to fight against fortune, and spoil a lot of no< 
dies whom she so often favors?” 

4 4 Does it take long to learn all that is nece, e 
sary?” inquired Olivier, bewildered by all that 1( 
had heard and seen. ] 

4 4 That depends , 9 9 answered his perfidious friem < 
4 4 It is like the art of playing the piano—some a^ 
able to give pleasure in a short time. That natu \ 
ally depends on the method and the professor. 0l 

“But we are near my place; let us enter, am 
while we are enjoying our cigars, I will give yc t 
further explanations . 9 9 

But Olivier, moved by the last struggle of h ir 
dying honesty, hesitated. 

“Good Heaven! You engage yourself to nothir^ 
by entering; you can always act as you pleas j 
Besides, it is well to know all you.can; and what 
impart does not arm you for attack, it will on f 
serve for defense. One never knows what mr' 
happen.” 

Chauvignac would not have shown so much pe ’ 



AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


101 


Iterance had he not seen an opportunity of play- 
g his dear friend a treacherous trick. 

Olivier ended by accepting the invitation; they 
!?re soon luxuriously reclining and smoking choice 
tars. Chauvignac, cards in hand, commenced his 
testable lessons. 

‘ Observe this play, and tell me if you can detect 
y trick in my manipulation of the cards?” 
The novice studied the cards with great atten- 
n, but, owing to his want of knowledge of the 
bject, could discover nothing. 

“You detect nothing in my play,” said Chau- 
gnac, “and yet the cards have undergone a 
ange called biseautage.” 

This arrangement of the cards enables the Greek 
t withdraw if necessary some cards, and to class 
i im afterwards in the order most useful to the 
* crator. 

1 Chauvignac, joining example to theory, showed 
his pupil how to accomplish this trick, 
il ‘Now,” he said, “to prove that it is not difficult, 
i must do it yourself. Let us take our places 
the table, and suppose we are playing for one 
'msand francs.” 

i Although Olivier had no great talent for the art 

I conjuring, he succeeded, nevertheless, through 
s lessons of his friend, in winning two games of 
,rte. 

‘That trick,” continued Chauvignac, “is the 
st elementary and easy of all. A little later I 
1 teach you more difficult lessons. You- will, I 
>e, in time become an accomplished philisopher. ’ ’ 
Tlivier did not reply, because his mind was occu- 
d by a thousand conflicting thoughts. 
Chauvignac thought his victim sufficiently en- 
red and compromised, and therefore abandoned 






102 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


him to the temptations he had suggested. On th 
pretext ‘of some visits to make, the two friends sep 
arated. 

Two days later the professor came in search o 
his pupil. 

“Tell me,” he said, “would not you like to maki 
a pleasant little excursion with me?” 

“Your proposal,” returned Olivier, “comes at l 
bad time; not only am I not in funds, but I am i: 
search of a thousand francs to meet a cursed bi'i 
that is due this very day.’ ’ 

“Is that all?” said Chauvignac, taking a note fc 
that amount from his pocket-book. “Take it, yo 
can return it to-morrow.” 

‘ ‘ Are you mad ? ’ ’ said Olivier. 

“Very likely; but my madness induces me ti 
open you a credit for another thousand francs o 
account of thirty thousand francs which are war 
ing for you,” returned Chauvignac. 

“Explain, because your words almost madde> 
me.” 

‘ * This is my explanation: f 

“M. le Comte de Vandermool, a rich Belgian 
capitalist, one of the most enthusiastic gamble) 1 
living, and one who without making a noise maft’ 
lose one hundred thousand francs, is at this m<]t 
ment in Boulogne, where he purposes staying eigl 
days. It is therefore a question of reducing tl ’ 
financial rotundity of this millionaire. Nothin t| 
could be easier. One of my friends and Parisian 
confederates, named Chaffard, is already near hi: 
on the watch; there is nothing now to do but set A 
work. a r 

“You are now one of us, and in a few days wijil 
be in a position to satisfy your creditors, and br 1 
a new cashmere for your mistress.” 



AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


103 


lit * 1 But you conclude too rapidly , 9 9 said Olivier, 
pisitating. “I have not yet said ‘yes.’ 99 
“I do not ask you to say ‘yes’ now; wait until 
oie arrive at Boulogne. Go now and pay the bill; 
le shall start in two hours. Post-horses have been 
krdered; we start from my place; be punctual.” 

On the same night the two philosophers arrived 
r Boulogne. They stopped at the “Hotel de 
in Uni vers,” which was the one pointed out by their 
il complice, whom they almost immediately met. 

e announced that there was no time to be lost, 
oi id that operations must be begun at once, the 
oiiDmte having spoken of the possibility of his leav- 
g next day. 

The travelers dined hurriedly, made a little 
tc ange in their dress, and then directed their steps 
ol the apartment of the Belgian millionaire, 
it Chaffard, who preceded them, introduced his 
iends as landed proprietors residing in the neigh¬ 
borhood. 


M. le Comte de Yandermool was a man of about 
? ty, with a countenance full of good faith and 
aindor. He wore several foreign decorations, 
n The newcomers were welcomed with charming 
affability. He even invited them to pass the even- 
loi g with him. 

;l We need hardly say the invitation was accepted. 
1 The conversation, at first animated, lost spirit 
n ;tle by little. The Comte then proposed cards, 
i iiich proposal was readily accepted by his guests, 
ir While the table was prepared, Chauvignac 
J mded to his young friend and pupil two packs of 
• rds, carefully arranged, which were to be sub- 
$ ituted for those supplied by the Comte, 
i The game fixed on was ecarte, and Olivier held 
] e hand, the other two accomplices pretending not 




104 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


to understand the game, and confining themselve 
to bets one against the other. Seeing that their ir 1 
terests were identical, it was like piercing wate 1 
with a sword. 

Olivier, astonished at first by this declaratioi 
soon by the aid of signs from Chauvignac unde]! 1 
stood the position, and comprehended that this r<' 
serve arose from the desire to disarm suspicion i; 
case of success. 

The Comte, being immensely rich, would onl 
play for bank notes. “For shame!” said h< 
“Metal is not sweet enough in a salon.’’ 

The new recruit, confused at first in taking par 1 
in an ambush, following the last inspiration of h 
conscience, neglected the advantages offered b 1 
trickery, and confined himself to the chances c 
fortune. I* 

That capricious goddess did not support the be 1 ? 
ter impulse; in two hands he lost his only note Cf 
one thousand francs. 

It was then that, incited by a significant glan<® 
of Chauvignac’s and also by the desire of recove rs 
ing what he had lost, Olivier made use of the ii'h 
famous instructions of his friend. 

His work, in truth, was very easy. The Coml 
was very short-sighted, and almost held his care * 
against his nose in consequence. t 

Fortune, as you might suppose, turned, and not<?( 
of one thousand francs accumulated in the hanc tt 
of Olivier, who, in some degree intoxicated by h ' 
luck, played ardently. t\ 

M. de Yandermool was himself a very goo tt j 
player; his repeated losses did not lessen his j< 
viality and good temper. Any one looking at h 
happy countenance would assuredly have taken hii $ 
for the winner. 






AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


105 


e|. “I am not in luck,” he said, taking a pinch of 
Qinff from a superb gold box. “In the last game, 
n> r instance, I vainly thought of everything; there 
no chance for me.” 

q Olivier remained serious; he continued his play 
nth feverish avidity. Nevertheless, desiring in 
|>me way to acknowledge the good temper of his 
ipble adversary, he said, with a smile which he 
ied to make amiable: 

[j “You are too good, M. le Comte.’’ 

| “Too good, you say? But that is just the word, 
es, I compliment you on it, M. Olivier. Pray 
r md me the cards.” 

j| ‘ ‘ Impossible! Trump ! trump ! I cut and the 
r ng of diamonds; that makes five points for me. ’ 9 
“Yes, evidently bad luck has stamped its har- 
>on into me,” said the Comte. “That makes 
lghty thousand francs; I see that quickly it will 
3 i one hundred thousand. It is only fair to add, 
y dear sir, that it is not my custom to lose more 
an that sum, and if that should happen, I pro- 
ose supper before losing my last twenty thousand, 
hat will perhaps change my vein; and you owe 
e that chance.” 

, They all accepted the proposition, 
i Olivier, rendered mad by the possession of eighty 
; ousand francs, could not resist the desire of ex- 
•essing his gratitude to Chauvignac, and for that 
lrpose led him to a corner of the room, 
i The miserable dupe was far from imagining the 
ightful deception prepared for him by his two 
icomplices. 

The Belgian capitalist, the worthy Comte, was 
) other than a clever sharper, brought by Chau- 
gnac from Paris for the sole purpose of playing 
I part in the comedy which should end in the ruin 
1 the son of a noble family. 




106 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


Olivier did not notice that, while he withdrev 1 
from the table, the false millionaire changed th 
cards which they had been using for others biseau ] 
tees in a contrary manner. 

During supper they were all very gay, although 
all drank moderately; each kept cool for the tei" 
mination of the game, at which they were soon en 
gaged. 

“Now,” said the Parisian sharper, “I desire t 
finish quickly. I stake twenty thousand francs o^ 
the first game.” 

The stake was, as a matter of course, accepted - 
but, cruel deception! that sum, on which Oliviet 
with good reason counted, was won by his oppc 
nent. 

A game for forty thousand produced the sam i 
result. 

Olivier, bewildered, discouraged, lost, no longer 
knew what to do. He vainly manipulated thj 
cards; he only had valueless ones. His opponen 
had a handful of trumps, and he gave them to hin 8 

In his despair he consulted Chauvignac, but h | 
signalled him to go on. The miserable fellow fob 
lowed his advice, and continued to lose. 

Wild, lost to all self-control, he played for ma<‘ 
amounts in the hope of regaining his luck, am 
quickly found that he had lost in his turn on 
hundred thousand francs to his adversary. 

This was followed by an infamous scene. Thj 
pretended Comte stopped, and, crossing his arms:, 

“M. Olivier de X-,” he said, severely, “yo 

must be very rich to lightly risk so large a sum| 
but that is a question for yourself. Still, howeve 
rich you may be, you must know that it is no 
enough to lose one hundred thousand francs; it i 
also necessary to pay them. Besides, I have al 





AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


107 


^idy given you an example. First, then, hand me 
3 amount I have won, after which we can con¬ 
sole the game.” 

“Nothing could be more correct, sir,” stam- 
;fc >red Olivier, 4 ‘ and I am ready to satisfy you; but 
r.u must know that—gaming debts—my word—” 
q. ‘Damnation, sir!” exclaimed the Comte, strik- 

* the table a violent blow as he spoke. “You talk 
tJ me of your word. You are a nice fellow to talk 
jje that. Listen to me ! We will now play another 

me. I will now speak clearly. M. Olivier de 

I -, you are a cheat—yes, a cheat! The cards 

er 3 d and supplied by you are ~biseautees.” 

o- ‘ Sir ! you insult me ! ’ ’ returned Olivier. 

‘You astonish me by that statement,” the sham 
m mte replied, ironically. 

* That is too much, sir; you shall give me satis- 
ei >tion this instant! Do you understand ? Follow 
h !” 

II ‘No, no; we will settle this matter on the spot. 
11 den: your two friends shall be your witnesses. I 
k'll send for two others.” 

The rascal, who had risen, rang violently. 

His own servant entered. 

l( ‘Go at once in search of the Procureur du Boi, 
N'd beg him to come here at once on a most im- 
h rtant matter. Be speedy. Do you understand ? ’ ’ 
‘Mercy, sir, mercy! Do not altogether ruin 
In !” pleaded the wretched Olivier. “I surrender 
: r self to your mercy.” 

)t ‘Stephen,” said the Greek, “listen to me: Stand 
d lind that door, and if in ten minutes I do not 
entradict my first orders, execute them.” 
ol ‘Now, sir, it is between us,” continued the ras- 
jj!. “The cards used to-night were insinuated by 
il a in place of those I had provided. You must 






108 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


inclose them in a packet and affix on it the seal < 1 
your arms engraved on that ring you wear. ’ ’ o 
Olivier looked in vain for succor from Chas 
vignac to Chaffard, but only perceived signs to r 
sign himself to all. He did what was required, e 

“That is not all, sir,” added the false Comta 
“as my play was fair, I have a right to some s$ 
curity. You must accept bills at short dates f«n 
the sum of one hundred thousand francs due I 
me.” ! 

And as the wretched Olivier hesitated to satislsi 
that demand, his pitiless opponent advanced d 
ring the bell. 

‘ ‘ Do not ring, sir, do not ring, ’ ’ said the your I 
man. “I will sign.” ir 

He did so. i i 

The ambush was a success. ri 

Olivier returned to his family and made humbe 
confession of what he had done. His father r 1 
signed himself to pay the debt, thinking more <ir 
his honor than of his fortune. 

The Society of Philosophers had participated > 
the rascality just described in the persons of Chatt 
fard and the Belgian capitalist. 

Chaffard was entrusted with the task of obtain 
ing the payment of the bills, and he acted with su( B 
zeal and energy that, as we have already stated, til 
hundred thousand francs was paid. 

Chauvignac, always on the alert, quickly o*i 
tained his share, which amounted to half, for hy 
services in planning the stroke and preparing tl$ 
victim. The other fifty thousand francs was in tl 
hands of Chaffard, to be divided between the thr 
philosophers. 

But the cunning rascal, finding himself in posse 
sion of sufficient funds to supply himself with lu. 




AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


109 


les and pleasures for at least a year, and fearing 
)m day to day to be forced to give an account to 
ajstice for his numerous crimes, instead of going 
r Paris, traveled to Brussels to play in his turn 
3 part of a French capitalist. His two asso- 
it ites were informed of this by a letter from Chau- 
sipiac, to whom Chaffard had announced his in¬ 
fo ition. 

Raymond took the news with philosophical calm; 
had learned by experience that you cannot de- 
stnd on the conscientiousness of a cheat. The 
laduct of Chaffard did not surprise him; it was 
some degree inevitable. 

in But Andreas took the matter differently; he was 
rious at being made the plaything of a man he 
>ked upon as his inferior, if not in physical 
l ength, at least in intellect, and he vowed to find 
b |3 robber and-force him to disgorge his spoil. 
r< His head filled with ruses and tricks, he started 
(r Belgium; but, as a matter of precaution, he 
>k as his companion a renowned boxer, a sort of 

i rculean bulldog, whom he proposed to set at his 
ai;e accomplice. 

Raymond, once separated from the man whom he 

ii ght have looked on as his bad angel, felt no 
lf iger equal to continue the hazardous life into 
11 rich he had been enticed. The incessant dangers 

• which he was surrounded, some remains of con- 
)1 fence, a return to better sentiments, all corn- 
tied to make him decide to quit forever the pro- 
ssion of a duper of dupes. 

Possessor of twenty thousand francs, he made 
at sum a base for existence which would give him 
ine to find an employment by which he could exist 
morably. But, at the end of some months, guided 
- some of his old love of play in general and for 






110 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


roulette in particular, he visited the watering place, 
which are so rich in opportunities of play, and ij 
was at them he entered on his famous crusad 
against banks and croupiers. 

The reader knows the result of the elaborate corti] 
binations of friend Raymond, a result inevitable t [ 
every player who thinks he can fix the favors O) 
fortune on himself. 


It took Raymond some days to tell me the pro 
ceding story, because when the signal for play waal 
given he left me at once to occupy himself wit’ii 
hypothetical combinations. Je 

His new system, about which he would never sa 
a word, and that I supposed would be sure to tur 11 
in the same inductive circle as the old one, brougl 
him no other benefit except the dreams of fortune 
which so delighted him. 'd 


When I left Baden he was destitute of all r< ai 
sources, and I was compelled to increase the amour 
of his debt to me. The reason I made this ne ,lto 
sacrifice to the monomaniac was that I had a<?° 
quired proof that since his reformation he had pr< 
ferred to endure the most severe privation rathe^ 
than return to his old plan of cheating. 


i)' 


I left Raymond perfectly happy and completel 
assured that he would soon repay me. What I ha" 
given him, he said, was enough to break the ban ; 
at Baden. I 

These golden hopes were far from being realize< 
because some time after, when I was giving my pe L 
formances in Paris, I received a letter from Ra\^ 
mond, in which he asked for the last time for assis 
ance until he obtained expected employment. 

I did not answer, to avoid new demands, but L 


wrote to a friend at Strasbourg to forward to tl 



AN INFAMOUS AMBUSH. 


Ill 


mhappy man the sum of fifty francs without in- 
iorming him whence it came. 

Another year passed without my hearing a word 
>f Raymond, and I thought him dead, when one 
Jay, returning to my residence in a hired carriage, 
: could not reach my door because the entrance was 
docked by a very elegant equipage 
I got out, and what was my surprise to see that 
ny visitor was my friend Raymond, most fashion- 
ibly dressed. He wore, as in his fortunate days, 
fis full beard, only it had not yet reached its full 

ength. . , 

I was so astonished that I could not speak, think- 
ng myself the victim of an illusion. 

‘ 4 Well, ’ ’ said Raymond, ‘ ‘ this is like our meeting 
it Baden. How a beard changes a man, especially 
,vhen that man is transformed almost to a million- 


lire ! 


1 ” 


“Come in,” I said, “quickly, because I am eager 
o learn the happy combinations that have made 
your fortune.” 

My visitor silently followed me, and even when 
vve had entered my room he did not speak. 

“But ” I said, “how is it the newspapers have 
not spoken of your lucky vein? You know that 
when they lose, the play bankers do not tail to 
publish the fact in order to attract other players. 

Raymond still continued thoughtful and silent; 
at last he said: 

“I have been trying to find a way of prolonging 
your error ; as I cannot succeed, I will tell you the 
truth. 

«< You doubtless remember that at the commence- 
ment of my story I concealed my name from re¬ 
spect for one of the members of my family. It was 
my brother, who occupied an honorable official po- 




112 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


sition. That brother, who, thank Heaven! never 
knew more of my career than that I had dissipated 
my fortune, died three months ago, without a will. 

I was his sole heir. This event has given me an in¬ 
come of twenty-five thousand pounds. These are 
the simple facts that have transformed me into a 
capitalist. 

“I have completely renounced play,” added 
Raymond; “I am sufficiently rich and have no am¬ 
bition to add to my fortune. But,” with a proud , 
air, “if I desired to do so, how I would break the . 
banks, and what a signal vengeance I would take ' 
of my former bad luck and its remorseless tools. 
But 1 am too happy now for revenge to find a place ( 
in my heart. ’ 9 l 

Raymond went to live at the Marais where he 
enjoyed the respect of his neighbors. When I made | 
up my mind to reside in the country I lost sight . 
of him. 

Three years later on visiting Paris I learned that s 
Raymond was dead, and that he left all his fortune ( 
to various benevolent institutions. ( 






THE METHOD. 


113 


: THE METHOD. 

i 


I We have now arrived at the most important part 
of this work. It is a question of explaining to the 
reader the different maneuvers used by the Greeks 
whose portraits I have sketched. In order to ren¬ 
der them comprehensible, I must enter into details 
which I hope will not lack a certain interest, 
i At the same time I should like to make it clear 
1 that I do not purpose to give a course of lessons 
in conjuring. My purpose is not to create trick¬ 
sters, but to show how they perform tricks. I shall 
I only impart sufficient information to enable play¬ 
ers to place themselves in safety, and especially to 
understand the danger of playing with persons of 
whose integrity they are not sure. 






114 


CARD-SHARPERS. 




GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF CHEATING AT 
CARDS. 

1. The false cut. 

2. The pass stroke. 

3. The jump. 

4. The big card. 

5. The bridge. 

6. The roofed card. 

7. Drawing the card. 

8. Withdrawing cards. 

9. Placing the cards. 

10. Seeing the cards. 

11. Changing the packs. 

12. The box under the cuff. 

13. The false shuffle. 

14. The classified shuffle. 

15. The partial shuffle. 

16. The fan. 

17. The swallow-tail. 

18. Adhesive or slippery cards. 

19. Marked cards. 

20. Cards not cut on the square. 

21. Pointed cards. 

22. Pricked cards. 

23. Cards with uneven corners. 

24. Cards with designs at back.* 

25. Spotting the back. 

26. The chaplet. 

27. The marking ring. 

28. The reflecting snuffbox. 

29. Signalling. 


THE FALSE CUT. 


115 


CHAPTER 1. 


THE FALSE CUT. 


The operation of cutting falsely is the most im¬ 
portant of all the artifices employed in cheating, 
md for that reason the Greek devotes great address 
md care to its execution. 

To well understand what a false cut means, I 
vill first recall the purpose and result of an ordl- 
lary cut at cards. 

It is a kind of guarantee of good faith that is 
isual between perfectly honorable people. 

This is the way it is usually done: 

The pack is placed by the dealer near his ad¬ 
versary. 


THE DEALER. 


HIS ADVERSARY. 


The adversary cuts the pack—that is to say, he 
raises a number of the cards that he places by the 
dealer's side, thus making two packs of one—Nos. 
1 and 2. 



THE DEALER. 


HIS ADVERSARY. 







116 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


The dealer lifts the pack No. 2 and places it oi 
that of No. 1. 


THE DEALER 



HIS ADVERSARY. 


The two packs now form one, and all arrange* 1 2 
ments of an artificial kind are reversed. 

It is very important to the Greek to elude thi 3 4 5 
disorganization, which allows him no longer t< 
count on the combinations he has made against hi. 11 
adversary. It is therefore necessary for the sue 3 
cess of his trickery that the two packs, after sus 1 
taining the change following the cut, should re 
take their old position in his hands. 

He employs to produce that result differen 1 
means, of which the following are the principal: ^ 


1. Destroying the cut. 

2. The pass stroke. 

3. The jump. 

4. The bridge. 

5. The big card. 








DESTROYING THE CUT. 


117 


CHAPTER II. 

DESTROYING THE CUT. 

The reader who is not initiated in the mysteries 
: conjuring might find astonishing, if not incred- 
)le, the fact that a Greek can transpose invisibly 
vo packets of cards under the eyes of his adver- 
aries. But nothing is more certain. 

Books on conjuring show how this trick is exc¬ 
ited. This book not having that purpose, I will 
intent myself with exposing here the preparations 
nd arrangements requisite. 

When the Greek lifts packet No. 2 to place it on 
io. 1, as in Fig. 3, instead of placing them equally 
which would prevent him distinguishing one from 
ae other), he places No. 2 a little behind No. 1, so 
riat it overlaps the other by about half an inch, as 
i Fig. 4. 



Fig. 4. 


By this favorable position of the cards the Greek 
,/hen he has the pack in his hands glides the little 
nger of his left hand between the packets 1 and 2, 
nd is then prepared to break the cut, that is, to 
>lace the portion of the cards which should be un¬ 
derneath on the top, as invisibly as possible, when 
he best moment comes. 

, When they raise the pack clever Greeks have a 
pore subtle plan of keeping the two packets sepa¬ 
rated one from another for the purpose of breaking 
he cut. 






118 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


They take in the right hand packet No. 2, as if t< 
place it on the other, but instead of doing so the: 
know how, in raising No. 1, to keep a little division 
which is sufficient for the introduction of the littl 
finger of the left hand, as shown in preceding ex 
ample. 



I said that the Greek breaks the cut when the 
best moment comes. I must explain that phrase. ^ 

Only beginners are in a hurry to execute thii ^ 
delicate maneuver. The experienced Greek take; 
his time, and, by the aid of movements accompany ^ 
ing an animated conversation, he succeeds in con (k 
sealing his manipulation of breaking the cut. 

The following is an instance: 

“Are the cards shuffled V’ he inquires, with ^ 
genial air, advancing his hand. Or, with the sam< 
gesture, he turns to the marker as if to examim 
the position of the game, affecting a little abstrac 
tion of mind. 

Nevertheless, as invisible as it may be made 
breaking the cut is a very difficult operation t( 
carry out when large stakes are in question. Thei 
the dealer must be quiet in his movements, because 
the least gesture beyond what is necessary to deal 
ing the cards would arouse suspicion. 

But even then, the resources of the Greek are 
not exhausted; if he does not use the trick describee 
he uses another, having many strings to his bow. 




THE PASS STROKE. 


119 


CHAPTER III. 


THE PASS STROKE. 


All Greeks are sharp, intelligent, and cunning, 
it they do not all possess the same powers in the 
t of conjuring. Many of them never succeed in 
visibly breaking the cut, and they are obliged to 
sort to means less difficult. The pass stroke is of 
at kind. 

The trick has the same object as the former one. 
well done it has as little chance of being discov- 
i ed. 

It is necessary, in order to explain what follows, 
return to the moment when the two packets have 
st been divided by the cut, as before described. 


HE GREEK. 




THE DUPE. 


Fig. 6. 

It is necessary for the Greek, in raising the two 
ickets, instead of placing No. 2 on No. 1, to cover 
to glide under as shown in Fig. 7. 

When he raises packet No. 2 the Greek places it 
itween the index finger and the middle one, so 
at in lifting No. 1 he subtilely makes it pass be- 
w. 

To facilitate the introduction of this packet the 
tarper takes care to swell the pack while he mixes 
ie cards. 






120 


CARD-SHARPERS. 



Some Greeks, instead of placing No. 2 betweei 
the two first fingers, take it simply in the hand anc 
cause it to glide under the other by the above 
method. But if that is done the transposition k 
more apparent. 




THE JUMP. 


121 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE JUMP. 

The jump is a trick so simple that it is astonish- 
j* any one can be taken in by it. In spite of that, 
confess that the first time I saw it done I was as 
ich a dupe as others. 

In this case the Greek, instead of placing packet 
). 2 on No. 1, raises the latter without hesitation, 
jen simply places that packet in his left hand, 
jiich he holds a little advanced, and places No. 1 
ove. 

The false cut, like the one preceding it, is usually 
rformed in gambling dens and low drinking 
•uses. 





122 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE BIG CARD. 

The title of this chapter sufficiently indicates tl 
kind of trick I am about to expose. 

It is a question of a card unusually large intrl 
duced into a pack, which compels, by its salie^ 
edges, the cut to be made where it is placed. 

If the Greek has made his combinations to wi 
the cut made at the big card alters nothing, wh(n 
it occurs at the very place where his little arrangli 
ments begin. 01 

The big card is also employed by the Greek i C 
a mark to break the cut when he considers it to h 
advantage to do so. 




THE BRIDGE. 


123 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE BRIDGE. 

® The bridge is one of the most ancient tricks of 
lie Greeks. When it is well done, it is difficult to 
r uard oneself against it. 

|j As in the preceding example, its object is to 
estroy the cut, and thus preserve the combinations 
, lade to correct fortune. 

11 The Greek, holding the pack in his right hand, 
if lakes it as large as he can in bending it in the 
gs irection of the first finger of the left hand, then he 
resses the upper part of the pack into an arched 
,orm in the opposite way, as in Fig. 8. 



Fig. 8. 


This done, he passes the upper packet of cards 
nder the other, as if shuffling the cards. 

The bent cards fly back, and it is the void be¬ 
tween the two arcs which forces the cut there rather 
lhan to any other part of the pack, as is shown 
a Fig. 9. 


Fig. 9. 





124 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


The smallest interval between the two packet 
suffices to force the cut. 

They employ also for the same purpose wha 
is termed the roofed card. The two packets abov 
and below are bent shortways, so that in placing th 
two arched portions of the pack, they presen 
toward the edge an interval which compels the cu 
at that place. This plan is not nearly so good a 1 
the former one, and is rarely used. 


DRAWING THE CARD. 


125 


CHAPTER VII. 

DRAWING THE CARD. 

To draw the card, that is to change one card for 
Lother. In the hands of a clever Greek this change 
executed so imperceptibly, that.it is impossible 
r the most suspicious eye to detect it. 

Suppose a Greek, in dealing the cards, has recog- 
zed, by means which I will presently explain, that 
at which he is about handing his opponent would 
: useful to himself, he draws the card, that is to 
y, instead of taking the card on top and giving 
to his adversary, he presents him with the nex^. 

I will now explain how that perfidious substitu- 
m is effected. 

j When the Greek prepares to draw the card, ha 
kes pains in dealing to advance on the pack two 



Fig. 10. 


irds beyond the others, as is shown in Nos. 1 and 2 
E Fig. 10. 

In ordinary dealing No. 1 would be given before 




126 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


No. 2; but if the Greek thinks it will serve his evil 1 
purpose, he draws the card, that is to say, substi-^ 
tutes the second for the first. 

This is his method. Holding the two cards to-' 1 
gether between his index finger and thumb, he* 
gives them a movement which causes No. 1 to recoil 
and No. 2 to advance, as shown on the opposite page. 

The right hand then looses the first card, takes 
up the second, and delivers it. 

This movement, that I have been obliged to divide 
to make it understood, must be executed at the 
same moment, and with the rapidity of lightning. 

Clever sharpers, while advancing the right hand 
to deal the card, give to the left a little movement 
to recoil which completely covers the operation. 

This maneuver may be continued as often as 
the Greek requires, for his interests, one card rathei 
than another. 

To give an idea of the illusion produced by this 



trick, I may mention a certain Greek (referred to 
in my Confidences”) who, after having placed the 
king of spades on the pack, dealt the cards one 








DRAWING THE CARD. 


127 


er another, and by thirty-one substitutions in 
^cession made the king of spades the last card 
the pack. I avowed then, and I repeat the state- 
nt now, that I could not detect one of those 
mges, so skillfully were they executed. 



128 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

WITHDRAWING CARDS. 

The reader will have difficulty in believing, unie 
initiated into the mysteries of conjuring, that 
Greek can withdraw, under the eyes of his adve[ 
sary, one or more cards, and restore them to t! 
pack, without being detected. Such, however, 
the fact. 

The art of withdrawing is one of the most val^ 1 
able artifices of conjuring; it exacts a great natur 
ability and consummate technical skill. 

To execute the trick of withdrawal, the Gre 
first holds in his left hand the cards to be remov 
diagonally on the others and a little advane 
towards the right hand, as in 



They are then taken in the right hand a 







WITHDRAWING CARDS. 129 

ssed against the four fingers and the base of the 
mb; the cards are then bent a little, as in 



?( 'here is another kind of withdrawel, but this 
t ess practiced by Greeks than by conjurers, who 
)loy it in circumstances where the first would 
be suitable. It consists in pressing the cards 
| itly between the little finger and the thumb of 
r hand which withdraws the cards. By this plan 
cards do not require bending. 



one can hold concealed six cards in his hand, 
! even more, without being detected. But what 
! more surprise you is that an adroit Greek 
, with the hand in which the cards are hidden, 
and still preserve sufficient freedom to gestknv 
without any constraint. 









130 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER IX. 


PLACING THE CARDS. 

Once in possession of the cards coveted, 1 
Greek, whether he is playing at lansquenet, at b; 


carat, or vingt-et-un, knows at any moment how 



place them in the pack in such a way as to i] 
their coming into his hand. 


This operation is the simplest I have yet 


scribed. 


The Greek, in order to place the cards that ' 
has withdrawn, waits for the moment of collect^ 
all or part of the pack. Then, in drawing th 
to him, he places in that packet the cards that % 
has in reserve, taking care to hide the operation 
spreading his hand over it. 






SEEING THE CARDS. 


13] 


CHAPTER X. 

SEEING THE CARD. 

It is necessary sometimes for a Greek to knoM 
3ard in the pack. 

With great rapidity he opens with one hand, 
the help of his little finger, the pack at the 
ice where that card is to be found, and, with a 
ick glance, sees what it is. 

I This movement, sudden as lightning, is imper- 
litible to the other players, because it is covered 
a gesture, and the backs of the cards are turned 
I vards them. 





132 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XI. 

CHANGING THE PACKS. 

• i 

The way this substitution is effected varies a; 
cording to the nature and training of the trickste 
The Greek of fashionable life, for instance, on tl 
rare occasions when he uses this artifice, emplo; 
much more delicate art than his comrade of low< 
rank. 

Nevertheless, the following plan is used by Gree 
of all kinds: 

That over-sharp gentleman has under his coa 
at the back of his trousers, one or several litt 
pockets, called finettes, in which are placed tl 
packs of cards to be substituted for those in use 
the house he is playing at. The packs are plac( 
in a way to make it easy to remove them, as shov 
in Fig. 15. 

While keeping his right hand on his hip, ti 
cheat saunters near the tables before play is begu 
and, seizing a favorable opportunity, makes t 
exchange, getting rid of the new pack by putti] 
them into a deep pocket, called profonde, which 
made under the skirt of his coat. 

Others, more impudently clever, do not fear 
execute the trick under the eyes of their opponen 

For this operation the pockets are placed in fro 
of the waistcoat, and called costieres* witho ; 
doubt because they are placed on the ribs, a lit \ { 
below the heart, hidden by the coat. ^ 

1st.—In seating himself to play, the Greek h , 
cunningly taken from one of the costieres a paf ( 
of prepared cards, and he holds them concealed 





CHANGING THE PACKS. 


133 


right hand, as I have explained in the article 
Withdrawing Cards. 

kid.—He takes in the left hand the pack on the 
le, as if to unseal it, and places his own above it, 
ing care that both packs are hidden by his right 
id. 

|rd.—He makes pass above, by dividing them, 



Fig. 15. 


pack that was below in accordance with the 
tern adopted in withdrawing cards. 

:th.—The last thing he does is to rid himself of 
first pack by placing it in the profonde. 

'o facilitate this, he pretends to draw his chair 
See Fig. 25, Article 11 Lansquenet, ’ ’ p. 239. 








134 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


nearer to the table, which gives him the opportuni 
of placing his hand near his pocket. 

All the movements jnst described, form we m 
say, one alone; they are, in addition, executed wi 
equal promptitude and address in the midst of 
animated conversation provoked by the Greek. 

We need not say that the covering of each pa 
is identical; the Greek has taken his precautions 
effect this. 

Some sharpers who have to change many pac 
of cards, and who fear the danger of detection 
to often performing the trick described, ally the: ] 
selves with an accomplice who, on condition 
receiving his share of the spoil, resigns himself 
the position of servant in the houses to be plu' 
dered. * 

In such conditions the two Greeks peaceful 
realize considerable profits. a 

Other rascals, much more cunning, work sing | 
handed, and still succeed in changing a great maj 
packs of cards. 

The Greek discovers the name and address of t f 
man who supplies cards to the house he frequen 
He makes a few little purchases to make his « ;i 
quaintance. He returns several times for the sap 
purpose, then one fine day he says that his friei 
has asked him to purchase a dozen or more pac 11 
of cards according to the importance of the shop. 1 

The next morning, under the pretext that t[ 
cards are not the right color, he returns them. f 

The packs are still sealed; the tradesman, wih 
out suspicion, exchanges them for others. 

But the Greek has passed the night in unseali: 
the covers and resealing them, by a process knov c 
to jugglers; the cards have been marked by hii 
the tradesman has them now in his shop; the tri 
is done; the Greek waits for them to appear. 




THE BOX UNDER THE CUFF. 


135 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE BOX UNDER THE CUFF. 

'here exists a perfidious means for changing the 
k under the eyes of an opponent. It is done 
a tin box attached to the arm under the cuff, 
hout apparently increasing its size. 

’he Greek places cards there, and uses them as 
fishes. 

V'hen it is a question of cutting, he places with- 
disguise his hand on the pack found on the table 
is to quite cover it, then leaning a little on the 
ie-cover, he presses a spring which opens the 
, when the prepared cards come out, while the 
er pack is seized by small pincers and placed in 
i box. 

1 finishing this chapter on Withdrawing Cards, 
ust inform the reader that while the different 
Leuvers are very effective when combined, they 
aot be separately employed, 
ating-houses, gambling hells, more or less aristo- 
[ic houses, and clubs exact different operations. 
Jhe Greek knows very well how to discern what 
suits different players, and rarely risks the 
,jtice of this trick if he is not sure of its success. 




136 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


FALSE SHUFFLE. 


Some people consider tha+ false shuffles are r 
trickeries, when their end is not to organize cu; 
able tricks but only to preserve them. Neverthel< 
those guilty of these manipulations are far fr( 
being innocent, and may be likened to those rece 


ers of stolen goods, who, if not exactly thieves, i 


punished by the law as such. 

When the pack is prepared for cheating, eitP 
by the Greek under the eyes of his adversary, ' 
by changing the pack against another prepared 
advance, it is important to him that his combii ^ 


tions should not be deranged by mixing the car 


For that purpose, he has recourse to false she 


lings, which vary according to the necessity. 

We may distinguish four kinds of false sin 
lings: 

The Classified Shuffle. 

The Partial Shuffle. 

The Fan Shuffle. 

The Swallow-Tail Shuffle. 


(a) The Classified Shuffle. 


The classified shuffle consists in pretending to r 1 
the cards while classing them in the order necess^ 
to attain the object of cheating. Suppose, for 1 
stance, that a Greek playing at ecarte has, in tak: 1 
up the cards, placed on the pack four cards of 
same suit, of which he wishes to make three trun 
and the trump card. ^ 

That is done by the classified shuffle. To acc( 14 





FALSE SHUFFLE. 


137 


lish this, he divides the pack in two parts that 
3 holds in each hand, as is done in ordinary 
mffling. 

Every time he inserts tAe packets one in another, 
e is able to introduce on the four cards seven 
;hers which complete those necessary to the deal. 
He offers them for cutting, breaks the cut, and 
Ihen he has dealt the eleven cards, the four last 
>rm three trumps and the trump card. 

(.5) The Partial Shuffle. 

The partial shuffle is used for games where only a 
ortion of the cards are dealt, such as ecarte. In 
lis case, eleven cards having been arranged by the 
Ireek for the purpose of winning, it is important 
> him they should not be deranged. 

| He, in consequence, passes the eleven cards under 
le pack, taking care to place his little finger be- 
veen the cards above and those below that he tries 
) mix up to the twenty-first card. 

When that is effected, he breaks the cut a second 
me to make the cards again return to the top of 
ie prepared pack; or, by making the bridge, he 
Drees his opponent to do it for him. 

(c) The Fan. 

! The fan is thus named, because for the execution 
0 the false shuffle, the Greek displays the cards at 
rst in that form. He then divides them in two, 
olding them in each hand; then, using the fingers 
f his right hand, he passes the cards of that hand 
nder the packet on his left, which produces the 
ippearance of naturally shuffling them. 

The cards, however, are not shuffled; but they 
smain in the position they would have occupied 
1 the cards had been cut, because the upper ones 
ave passed under the lower; it is therefore neces- 



138 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


sary to repeat the operation, in order that the cardi 
may return to their first position. This kind oi 
shuffling may be repeated according to circum¬ 
stances. 

(d) The Swallow’s Tail. 

False shufflings are numerous; every Greek pos¬ 
sesses a plan of mixing the cards peculiar to him- ] 
self. The modifications are drawn from the prin- , 
ciples described. It would take too long to entei 1 
into the details of such proceedings, which are very, 
nearly the same. 

The false shuffle with which I will finish this p 
chapter presents a particular method, and is often' 
used by Greeks. 

To turn the suspicions that may be roused by^ 
the false shufflings already described, the Greek] 
often employs the swallow’s tail, which consists in 
dividing the cards into two parts and introducing 
others between them. But instead of equalizing 
the pack for the purpose of completing the shuffle, 
the Greek manages to make the packet he has in¬ 
serted in the other one incline as in 



Fig. *16. 


Then commences an operation which is masked q 
by the right hand. L 

The Greek, after passing packet No. 1 across^ 
No. 2, makes the lower one describe an arc of a, 
circle towards the right, which frees it and allows. 
it to be replaced under No. 1, its first position. ;! 



CUT CARDS. 


139 


CHAPTER XIV. 

CUT CARDS. 

To use cut cards was one of the principal tricks 
the last century. This maneuver was then only 
■pwn by the adepts of high standing, and made 
ny dupes. It is now only practical in gambling 

is, because the artifice is too gross to deceive any 
5 but the frequenters of such places. In spite of 

it, it is a powerful instrument for cheating in 
! hands of some Greeks. 

Ve mean by biseautees cards those larger at one 
i than the others, as shown in 


Fig. 17. 

;^or this purpose the Greek, scissors in hand, 
s the cards on each side, commencing by about 
ii-eight of an inch, to terminate at nothing at 
I opposite extremity. 

j)ne can readily understand that, all cards being 
the same size, if one is introduced of different 
lensions the Greek easily recognizes it, what- 
r pains are taken in shuffling them. 

Vhat occurs with one card holds good in several, 
ns, I will suppose that the Greek has placed all 
court cards in one way, and the others in an- 
jer; he may place the smaller ends at each ex- 








140 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


tremity of the pack, and cut at the court cards < 
the others. 

This arrangement of cut cards is only given j 
an illustration, because the cheat may be utilize 
in other ways. 

Some Greeks use cards cut in two ways; it 
the same plan under another aspect. 

Thus, for example, court cards are cut in a co} 
vex form at the sides, as in Fig. 18; the others i 
a concave way, Fig. 19. 

The use of these cards produces the same resu 
as the use of the former, only the play affords mo 
scope for cheating. 

I- I—1 ' 


Tie. 18. Fig. 19. 

The cleverer the Greeks, the less the cards a] 
cut. I have seen cards used that required a clo* 
examination to detect the alteration made. 









MARKED CARDS. 


141 


2 I CHAPTER XV. 

MARKED CARDS. 

0 When white-backed cards are not of the best 
uality, they show different shades, that is to say 
he white is more or less pure. This imperfection 
;l rises from the bad quality of the cardboard em- 
•loyed in manufacture. 

The Greek makes use of these slight differences 
o assist him in recognizing the cards, when they 
liave been under his sharp eyes for a sufficient time. 

If the cards do not present any difference of 
int, the Greek supplies that want in a way that 
e only can detect. For this purpose he rubs, with 
!, small rag impregnated with black-lead, the cards 
desires to recognize. 

The sharpest player will hardly recognize this 
rick. It would require the lynx eyes of a Greek 
o discover the nearly imperceptible stain. 

1 We must add that the Greeks follow different 
|>lans in accordance with their capacity. One, the 
possessor of excellent sight and delicate powers of 
Ippreciation, makes use of tinted cards; while an¬ 
other, for other reasons, uses conjuring tricks, and 
years large spectacles. 




142 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


CARDS THAT STICK OR SLIP. 


As we have just seen, the Greeks make use o 
the slightest difference in the cards to influence th 
fortune of the game. 

What the reader will find difficult to credit ii 
the fact that a new pack of cards, just taken ouP 
of its cover, frequently permits an experienced 1 
sharper to recognize court cards from the others. 


This is particularly the case when the pack has 
not been kept in a perfectly dry place. 

The Greek, in dealing the cards, presses hard 
on the pack with his left thumb, as if to separate 
and cause the cards to glide to his right hand 
Under these circumstances, the common cards pass 
more easily than the court ones. 

And for this reason: 


To brighten the color of the cards, gum is used 
Now that mucilage being very adhesive, wheh^ 
warmed becomes a little sticky. That being so, the . 
court cards, which have more color than the others 
naturally are more adhesive. 

This trick is particularly employed by the Greeks ( 
of the fashionable world, who perform it with ar 
incredible tact and delicacy. 

The lower-class Greeks have packs prepared 
which heighten the effects described. They take 
the pains to rub the court cards with a slight filih 
of soap, while the others are imp regated with a 
little finely powdered resin. 




CARDS NOT CUT ON THE SQUARE. 


143 


CHAPTER XVII. 

CARDS NOT CUT ON THE SQUARE. 

was once instructed by a judge to examine some 
ks of cards seized in a gambling hell, and which 
been used for vingt-et-un. 

'hanks to my first trade of mechanic, I soon dis¬ 
ced the trick by the means of which the banker, 
lealing the cards, could tell if that which he took 
In the pack was above or below ten. 

'he court cards and the aces were slightly cut on 
side at the top, so as to be out of the square, as 
wn in Fig. 20, but much less. 


Fig. 20 

l trained eye was absolutely necessary to dis- 
pr the slight alteration; but it was enough for 
Greek, and from that indication he took the top 
1 if favorable to his play, and in the opposite 
> made use of another. 

[e could also, when completing his play, hold 
i card or take another according to his interest. 





144 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PRICKED CARDS. 

The Greek employs the trick to mark the m< 
important cards of the pack. 

With a slightly blunted pin he pricks at the C( 
ner and side of the court card, so as to produce 
slight relief on the surface. 

Some Greeks refine on this proceeding. Th 
divide the corner of the card, prick it within, a: 
then refasten it. In case a little roughness i 1 
mains on the surface, which, even should it be r 
ticed, would pass for a defect in the cardboard. 

Others still cleverer than these, instead of maki] 1 
the punctures in front, do so at the back of t‘ 
card; by this plan the mark is completely hidd# 
by the puncture, it can then only be detected by t 
touch. 











CARDS WITH MARKED EDGES. 


145 


CHAPTER XIX. 

CARDS WITH MARKED EDGES. 

This is in a degree the same trick as the preced- 
g one, except that it is done under the eyes of 
31 je victim. 

k The Greek, on every occasion that a card passes 
rough his hands which, later on, may be useful to 
h m, makes with his nail on the edge a slight mark, 
j fie delicate mark is easily appreciated by the sensi- 
ye fingers of a Greek. 

j I must say that the tricksters who make a p<nnt 
i using this plan possess an extreme delicacy of 
ijuch, which they foster by never being without 
toves except when professionally engaged. Some 
] en use pumice-stone to rub the fingers with, while 
|hers dip them in acids to give the skin ext**aae 
nsitiveness. 




146 


card-sharpers. 


CHAPTER XX. 


CARDS WITH BENT CORNERS. 



These marks are made while playing. When tin 
Greek has recognized some cards which may serv< 
his purpose of cheating, he makes in the left hot 
tom corner a slight fold or bend towards the inside 
This alteration, light as it may be, produces a kin. 


----—.r —— - “—' 

of radiance that the Greek’s eye grasps in a mo 
ment. 


This trick is usually employed to cheat at piquet 
The Greek marks thus the ace, ten, and eight of anj 
suit. With the assistance of conjuring tricks al¬ 
ready described, he knows how to deal all or part of 
a sequence, against which it is impossible for hitj 
opponent to contend. 





CARDS WITH DESIGNS AT BACK. 


147 


CHAPTER XXI. 

CARDS WITH DESIGNS AT BACK. 

t is very rare to find all the marks with which 
backs of cards are embellished to form the de- 
i, in the same identical place, 
he slightest examination will prove that the 
gns are not always the same distance from the 
es of the card. 

| he maker and the honest player do not find 
this fact affects them; but the Greek makes 
[profit of it, and uses this peculiarity for the 
pose of cheating. 

.fter the third or fourth hand, he is able, by 
means, to recognize a certain number of cards, 
he Greek who practices the trick often makes 
own cards, and places as he pleases the dis- 
ijuishing marks. 

•uppose, for instance, that the design represents 
Lumber of lozenges placed one on the other, 
Greek arranges that the lozenge placed near 
edge of the card should be entire for the ace; 
i nearer and cut in four for the king, half for 
i queen, and three-quarters for the knave. 

Vhen the top edge of the card, the lozenge, by 
ilar alterations, represents spades, hearts, clubs, 
i diamonds, the Greek will have succeeded in 
’king the principal cards required for piquet. 
Jhance alone will have appeared to produce these 
mge alterations, and no one will have the right 
;uspecting any trickery. 



148 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


SPOTTING THE BACKS OF CARDS. 


The following trick yields nothing to the m< 
successful abbreviations of shorthand, for by t 
use of a point you may recognize any one of t 
thirty-two cards used at piquet. 

Suppose the design at the back of a card consis 
of circles, or any other form arranged regularly 
the ordinary way. See Fig. 21. 

The large circle at the top of the card on t 
left represents a heart; the second, in descendir 
a diamond; the third, a club; the fourth, a spade. 

If, in addition to one of these circles, which a 
naturally placed by the design of the card, t 
Greek adds another little mark, he indicates t 
class of the card. 

That mark should be placed in one of the dij 
sions marked in Fig. 22; it represents, if placed 
the top, an ace; to the right, a king; the third 
queen; the fourth, a knave, and thus up to seven. 

It is, of course, understood that it requires b 
one mark, as in Fig. 21, to that which is joined 
the third point, to indicate, after the principles 


have set forth, an eight of clubs. 


After my explanation, the reader, I am qu 
sure, has already made up his mind about cai 
with ornamental backs. 

“When that is the case,” he says, “I will oi 
play with plain, white-back cards, and avoid 


cheated. ’ 









SPOTTING THE BACKS OF CARDS. 


149 


Unfortunately, cards with white backs lend 
lemselves to cheating as much as the others. 1 
pe already shown that, in speaking of stained 
rds; and here is another instance. 

In the year 1849, M. B-, judge d’instruction 

the tribunal of the Seine, requested me to ex¬ 



amine and verify one hundred and fifty packs of 
:jards seized in the possession of a man whose ante- 
iedents were far from being as white as the cards 
Le used. 

These cards were all white backs, and this pe¬ 
culiarity had defeated, until now, the most minute 
investigation. 

; It w r as impossible for the keenest eye to detect 







150 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


the slightest alteration, the smallest mark, and the el 
all appeared to be cards of the best make. 

I passed nearly fifteen days examining the cardl'l 
with my eyes alone and with the assistance of 
powerful magnifying glass; studying the forms am 
the imperceptible differences of each one of th 
cards in the one hundred and fifty packs. I coull 
detect nothing, and, tired out, I ended by sharinj 
the opinion of other experts who had preceded m 
in the examination. 

“Undoubtedly,” I said, with annoyance, throw 1 
ing the cards one night on the table, “there is noth 
ing wrong with these cards.” 

All at once, on the brilliant back of a card ancu 
near one of the angles, I thought I noticed a dul 
point which had escaped me till that instant. 
approached, the point disappeared. But, strang< 
circumstance! it reappeared when I retreated. 

“What luck!” I exclaimed with enthusiasm, as 
an idea flashed across my mind. “I have it! Yes 
it must be so! it is a distinctive mark ! 91 

And, following a leading principle used ii 
trickery, I convinced myself that all the cards hac 
a mark which, placed at certain determined places 
indicated their value and suit. 

This was the plan: 

It is necessary to suppose the cards to be dividec 
vertically in eight parts, and horizontally in four 
as in Fig. 23. The one set of marks indicated th* 
value of the cards, and the others their suits 
The mark is placed where the divisions intersect 
Such is the plan; practice does the rest. 

As to the way of making this mysterious mart 
of which I have already spoken, I must be allowed 
to keep silence; because my purpose, as I have said 
before, is to expose cheating and not to make cheats. 





SPOTTING THE BACKS OF CARDS. 


151 


is enough to say that seen closely, the mark 
Its into the white of the card; and that at a 
itance, the reflection of the light makes the card 
pear brilliant, while the mark remains dull. 



V 

c 




W £ 


arts. 

unonds ... 

lbs. 

ides. 


Fig. 23. 


'At the first glance, it appears very difficult to 
lilize the division to which is attached an isolated 









152 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


mark on the back of a card. In spite of this, wi 
a little attention, we may judge by the mark I ha 
used as an example in the card represented 
Fig. 23, that it cannot belong to the second nor 
the fourth vertical division; and then by inductn 
reasoning, we can understand that the mark is ah 
in the second horizontal division. 

It therefore represents the queen of diamonds. 

We must grasp the fact that a Greek, with the* 
cards, risks, I will not say his honor, but his lil 
erty against fortune; and that, by reason of tf 
importance of the stake, he must make serior 
study of an art on which everything depends. 









: 

: 


THE CHAPLET. 


153 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


li 


THE CHAPLET. 


he chaplet is an arrangement of cards made 
)rding to certain words of a phrase committed 
lemory. In other words, it is using the memory 
the purpose of cheating. 

'here are chaplets used more or less ingenious; 
best are those which offer to the mind some 
ming, a thought, or only an agreeable com- 
ation. 

)ne of the old chaplets is that formed of two 
in verses, of which each word indicates one of 
fifty-two cards of the pack. 

'his is it: 


Unus, quinque, novem, famulus, sex, quatuor, duo, 
Hex, septem, octo, fcemina, trina, decem. 


i^hich may be translated as follows: 

Ace, five, Bine, knave, six, four, two, 

King, seven, eight, queen, three, ten. 

jFhese thirteen cards are, in addition, ranged in 
fer of suits as follows: spades, heart, elubs, dia- 
hds, as below: 

1 . Ace of spades. 

2. Five of hearts. 

3. Nine of clubs. 

4. Knave of diamonds. 

5. Six of spades. 

[And thus in order, following the order of the 
kplet and suits to the last. 




154 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


The following is a phrase or chaplet for a gan D ' 
of thirty-two cards, called piquet : 

0 ’ 

The king eighteen is not worth his queens. 

Which means: I 

The king, ten, eight, nine, knave, ace, seven, queen. 

Thus, as in the preceding example, the care 
are classed in the order indicated above. Only, i 
the end of the chaplet, after the queen, instead c 
placing the suits for the king which follows, it i 
arranged that the king and the queen should be c 1 
+ ,he same color. Without that precaution, fou 
kings of spades, four tens of hearts, etc., would b 
required. The following example will make thi 
clear: 


Arrangement of a chaplet of thirty-two cards. 


1 . 

King of spades. 

17. 

King of clubs. 

2. 

Ten of hearts. 

18. 

Ten of diamonds. 

3. 

Eight of clubs. 

19. 

Eight of spades. 

4. 

Nine of diamonds. 

20. 

Nine of hearts. 

5. 

Knave of spades. 

21. 

Knave of clubs. 

6. 

Ace of hearts. 

22. 

Ace of diamonds. 

7. 

Seven of clubs. 

23. 

Seven of spades. 

8. 

Queen of diamonds. 

24. 

Queen of hearts. 

9. 

King of diamonds. 

25. 

King of hearts. 

10. 

Ten of spades. 

26. 

Ten of clubs. 

11. 

Eight of hearts. 

27. 

Eight of diamonds. 

12. 

Nine of clubs. 

28. 

Nine of spades. 

13. 

Knave of diamonds. 

29. 

Knave of hearts. 

14. 

Ace of spades. 

30. 

Ace of clubs. 

15. 

Seven of hearts. 

31. 

Seven of diamonds. 

16. 

Queen of clubs. 

32. 

Queen of spades. 


It must be mentioned that the cut in this arrange 
ment of the cards, however often it may be repeated 
does not in any degree affect the order of the 
cards. 

When a Greek has substituted one pack of cards 
for another, and has made a false shuffle which does 








THE CHAPLET. 


155 


not alter their position, he can easily learn all the 
sards in his adversary’s hand by those he has in his 
)wn hand. 

Thus, for example, at ecarte, if he has in his 
band: 

The eight of hearts, 

The nine of clubs, 

The queen of clubs, 

The king of clubs, 

The ten of diamonds, 
le knows that his opponent has; 

The king of diamonds, 

The ten of spades, 

The knave of diamonds, 

The ace of spades, 

The seven of hearts. 

The trump will be the eight of spades; and know- 
ng all the cards following that, he can ask or hold, 
iccording to circumstances. 

At the games of baccarat and lansquenet this 
;rick is most dangerous and easy. The packs are 
ihanged before beginning, and although they may 
3 e really shuffled, it takes time for the cards to 
ose the form they are first arranged in. Some 
3 ards may be out of order, but the Greek can 
jount for some time on his knowledge of the card 
to follow by that which precedes it. 



156 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

THE MARKING RING. 

The Greek sometimes elevates trickery into a 
art; the instrument I am about to describe is a proof 
of it. If the ring had not been imagined for 
swindling purposes, one could not help admiring it. 

The ring represented in Fig. 24 is called trepan; 
it is hollow, and forms a reservoir of very thin ink. 
This liquid is capable of flowing from an opening 
made in point A, if this does not stop the issue. 
It acts as tap to the reservoir. 



Now, as this point (A) is hidden within the hand, 
the Greek can in an instant mark certain cards in 
a way that he alone can detect, under the eyes of 
his opponent. 

These marks, according to their position, can 
also, as I have before explained, indicate the kind 
and value of the cards. 

The Greek also uses the marking ring for the 
purpose of cheating at dominoes. In that case 
the ring is massive, and the inside is furnished 
with a very sharp steel point. 

We can readily comprehend that the Greek, 



THE MARKING RING. 


157 


either while he holds the dominoes in his hand 
[>r while he is moving them on the table, can easily 
prick or mark them in a way to render them recog¬ 
nizable. 

I will add that the point of the ring, although 
yery sharp, is dealt with in a manner to cause it 
to mark so lightly as not to arouse suspicion. 

Only the trained observation of the astute Greek 
sould detect such slight touches. 



158 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXY. 

THE SNUFF-BOX. 

While dealing with objects of art, I will mentioE 
another which has its merits. 

The reader will hardly believe that a snuff-boa 
may become a tool for cheating; however, such is 
the case. 

The Greek, in beginning to play, carelessly lays 
on the table a snuff-box, on the top of which is a 
little medallion of the size of a shilling, covering 
a miniature. It is the portrait of a lady executed 
with great art. 

The players’ observation is naturally directed to 
this object, and sometimes one of them will take 
it into his hand to examine, and then pass it on 
to be admired by the others. 

When the game has begun, the Greek takes a 
pinch of snuff, that action affords him the oppor¬ 
tunity of taking up his box and replacing it in 
front of him. 

But, while doing so, he presses an invisible spring 
which substitutes for the miniature a little convex 
glass, which assists him greatly in his cheating. 

When the Greek is dealing, as he hands out the 
cards, those given to his opponents are reflected in 
the little mirror and are therefore visible to the 
sharper. 

From time to time the Greek replaces the mirror 
by the medallion and politely offers a pinch of snuff 
to his victims. 



APPLICATION OF PRECEDING PRINCIPLES. 159 




CHAPTER XXYI. 

APPLICATION OF THE PRECEDING PRINCIPLES. 

Strokes of Trickery. Disposition of the Cards. 

[t is a positive fact that a clever Greek can, by 
i aid of the rules I have set forth, win at all 
nes by giving to himself winning cards. 

But it must not be believed that the Athenian 
itlemen are so awkward as to present their tricks 
the form of conjuring. They would in that case 
soon found out. 

fhese intelligent rascals economize their re- 
irces and hasten slowly; they do not as a rule 
I a fixed system, and their talent, added to a 
;ht touch of trickery, assures them fortune’s 
le. 

Generally the Greek modifies the tricks employed 
ording to present circumstances. The cleverer 
is at play, the less necessary he finds it to 
at. If he is playing with a clumsy fellow, the 
;iek, recognizing his superiority to his adversary, 
ys honestly, reserving his cunning wiles for a 
:;thier occasion. Nevertheless, as it often hap- 
s that fortune justifies the vulgar proverb, 
ull hands for the fool,” Mr. Sharper keeps on 
i defensive, and is always ready to shoot his 
soned shafts. 

i’or the above reasons it is impossible to give 
inscription of the intricate organization of a 
irper’s play; but as I desire to instruct the 
ler on his rascally maneuvers I will present 
example one of the tricks of the “lofty school,” 



160 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


as people say at the circus. It is the top tri< 
used at piquet. 

In this trick, for'which the preparations are mac 
before the eyes of the opponent and without ar 
preliminary precaution, the Greek may win tl 
game the first hand by one hundred and sixty-thr< 
points. 

In reading the following details, one may reali: 
the different manipulations which serve as found 
tion to all kinds of cheating at cards; and I tru 
the reader will derive from the exposure the know 
edge, which is indeed the real object of this boo 
that it is dangerous to trust large sums of mon 
to chances that may be and are so easily controlle 





TRICK AT PICQUET. 


161 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


TRICK AT PIQUET. 


) In which the Greek repeeks, and defeats his 
opponent. 

I This trick at piquet, dates from the last century, 
was invented by the sharper Comes, who exe- 
ted it very cleverly, even with bandaged eyes. 
_It is from this interesting game that people have 
awn all the tricks at piquet since performed by 
njurers as an amusing experiment. I will describe 
first in the form of an introduction, to assist the 
ider in understanding the trick spoken of in the 
t chapter. 

In taking up the pack, the sharper, by an as- 
ned awkwardness, muddles the cards in a way 
Imake a great many of the court cards face each 
tier. That affords him the opportunity of return- 
I * the cards to their right position; and under the 
p?text of doing that, he places under the pack a 
t l and eight of each kind, a king, and three aces. 
|Dnce in possession of these twelve cards, he bends 
tiorner of each with one pressure of his hand, 
i ich leaves a curve which he can instantly detect. 
(ee ch. xx.) 

[He then hands the pack to his opponent to 
diffle. 

* Vhile that is being done, he has his eyes ban- 
Iged by his opponent—a precaution which does 
ft prevent his seeing through the openings left by 
1 prominence of the nose. 

lie then takes the pack, and, while appearing to 
jfl iffle the cards, he is able to find the marked cards 






162 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


and place them in the places necessary to enabl 
him to win the game, as shall be explained in th 
next paragraph. 

Some conjurers, instead of bending the ca# 
content themselves, while apparently trifling wit 
them, with passing the twelve cards already d* 
scribed below the others, and after that arrangin 
them in the desired way by executing a false shul 


fle. 


(b) In which the Greek repeeks and defeats his q 
ponent, although the cards were shuf¬ 
fled by the latter. 

As I address persons acquainted with the ga® 
of piquet, I have no need to enter into details. 1 


The Greek must, in playing his first trick, sec® 
a ten, six major, a ten, four, an ace and a ten, an 
four kings, which we will represent thus: 


1. Ace of spades. 

2. King of spades. 

3. QueeD of spades. 

4. Knave of spades. 

5. Ten of spades. 

6. Nine of spades. 


7. Ace of hearts. 

8. Ace of diamonds. 

9. Ace of clubs. 

10. King of hearts. 

11. King of diamonds. 

12. King of clubs. 


It is necessary, in addition, that his adversar 
should hold the cards at the beginning of the gam' 
when it is in playing the first hand that the captiii 
of the twelve cards should be made. 

This is how the difficult operation is effected: 

It is the custom before a game begins that eac 
of the players should cut for deal. 

The Greek, in shuffling the cards, has, with 
rapid glance, found one that he places under tl 
pack, and, using the trick that I have describe 
(Fig. 9, ch. vi., p. 174), he makes the bridge. 4 










TRICK AT PICQUET. 


163 


“Let ns see,” he says, placing the pack on the 
table, “who deals?” 

He cuts first in the bridge where the ace is, and 
it is very rare that his opponent cuts another. 

“My deal,” he says; “shuffle them, please. We 
play for one hundred and fifty. ’ ’ 

The first deal is not important; the Greek leaves 
to chance the distribution of the cards. He is sure 
that his opponent will not win the game the first 
hand, and occupies himself with the plan of getting 
possession of the cards previously named. 

Twelve cards are dealt to him by his adversary, 
and five others are reserved. 

It is probable that out of these seventeen cards he 
may find a certain number of those required. 

Now, at all price, he must avoid the chance of 
these cards being possessed by his adversary, and he 
keeps them near him by the following trick: 

For this purpose he places with the cards with¬ 
drawn those he fears to lose; he then puts on his 
right a little pile of cards, on which he places suc¬ 
cessively, without affection, the aces, kings, and 
spades that he can take from his opponent. 

Suppose, when the hand is played, he has only 
secured six of the cards he needs; the following is 
the plan adopted to take the other six from the rest 
of the pack: 

During the cutting, he leaves purposely the cards 
he has taken on the table, faces upwards; and as it 
is for him to shuffle them, he turns those of his ad¬ 
versary in the same way. 

Profiting,by the moment when the latter is mark¬ 
ing his points, he chooses, in lifting the packs, the 
cards he requires, and places them with the six he 
already had at the bottom of the pack. 

If my reader is not familiar with card tricks, he 



164 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


doubtless thinks all these maneuvers long and 
difficult. It is a mere nothing. 

This apparently long explanation is due to the 
fact that in conjuring tricks tedious descriptions 
are required to make short operations clear. But 
that is not the point; my sole desire is to be compre¬ 
hended, and it is for that reason that I have labored 
my account of the manipulation employed. 

The Greek having, in the twinkling of an eye, 
placed the twelve winning cards under the pack, so 
arranges them that they shall come to his hand 
when dealt. 

In appearing to shuffle, he makes successively 
pass on the pack: 

1. Three cards from bottom of pack. 

2. Three cards taken indifferently from middle of 
others. 

3. Three cards taken from bottom of pack. 

4. Three cards taken indifferently. 

5. Three cards taken from the bottom. 

6. Three cards taken indifferently. 

This is followed by a sham shuffle, sham cut, and 
the arrangement by threes. 

The reader can see that of the twelve c^rds placed 
under the pack, nine must come into the hands of 
the Greek in dealing; the three last reach him from 
those placed aside. 

He has now in his hand: 

1. Ten, six of spades. 

2. Ten, four, ace. 

3. Ten, four, king; 

with which he wins the game by trumping his op¬ 
ponent. 

This victory produces one hundred and sixty- 
three points. 

The trio of cards and their arrangement just 




165 


TRICK AT PICQUET. 

described is a specimen of what a trickster can do; 
I but it is necessary, as I have before pointed out, 
; that the Greek should never run the risk of giving 
himself too good a hand. He is satisfied with ten, 
four, or king, or even with a simple quinte. The 
arrangement of the trio becomes then a very simple 
affair. 

(c) Subtraction and Substitution. 

Formerly it was customary at piquet, when the 
dealing was accomplished, to divide the rest of the 
cards in two unequal parts, and place one across the 
other. 

The eight cards are now placed in one lot. 

This new arrangement gives occasion for a trick 
which, although very daring, is not less difficult to 
detect when it is not known. Once suspected, it is a 
different thing. 

This rascality is done as follows: 

The Greek, in dealing the cards, takes care to 
give himself three extra cards. He then intention¬ 
ally places the reserve cards nearer to himself than 
to his adversary. 

The latter does not notice the subtraction of three 
additional cards, because he does not pay attention; 
and it is, besides, the moment players are occupied 
in examining and arranging their cards. 

While his opponent is thus occupied, the Greek 
rapidly takes the three worst cards in his hand, and 
places them in the manner already described on 
the reserved ones, and pushes them closer to his 
adversary. 

The movement is apparently so natural that the 
i trick is not noticed. 

We can easily understand the advantage drawn 
by the Greek from his frauds. He not only gets rid 
of his own bad cards, but he passes them to his 
opponent. 



166 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

TRICK AT ECARTE. 

The King and a Flush. 

Before beginning this article on ecarte, I will 
point out an error widely spread amongst players. 

People say, in speaking of a Greek whose cheating 
powers have been proved; ‘ ‘ That man turns up the 
king whenever he wishes. ’ ’ 

That is a mistake; a clever Greek never commits 
that imprudence. He is perfectly well aware that if 
he turns up a king too often, he will awaken sus¬ 
picion, and therefore only scores a point, while by 
keeping it in his hand he gains a double advantage. 

For the same reason, an experienced card-sharper 
does not give himself so complete a hand as that 
before described, because such a combination of 
trumps could not fail to awaken reflections by which 
he could not profit. 

The following trick should also only be con¬ 
sidered as an example of the organization of cheat¬ 
ing at ecarte: 

The Arrangement of the Pack. 

The Greek, in turning over the cards with seem¬ 
ing carelessness, has boldly passed under the cards 
a ten six major, of which the king occupies the top 
place. 

This done, nothing is easier for him to do than 
to place these cards in a way to make them fall to 
his share. 


TRICK AT EC ARTE. 


167 


To do this, in pretending to shuffle, he makes 
successively pass into the pack: 

1. Four cards below (good). 

2. Three cards in the middle (bad). 

3. Two cards below (good). 

4. Two cards in the middle (bad). 

This manipulation finished, he makes a false cut, 
as indicated in the first chapter, and deals. 

Contrary to his principles, he returns the king, 
and holds in his hands a sequence to the queen of 
trumps. 

We have seen from the preceding tricks that it 
is necessary for the Greek, in beginning to play, 
to place above and below the pack a certain num¬ 
ber of cards, which he classes according to the order 
indicated by the deal. 

This arrangement is made, as I have before ob¬ 
served, in pretending to shuffle, and nearly always 
in the midst of an animated conversation on the 
playing of the last hand. 

The Greek masters the trick so perfectly, that he 
accomplishes it quite imperceptibly. 

I have said that he does not amuse himself by 
using conjuring tricks, and satisfies himself with 
some good cards, of which his skill makes the best 
use. 

In that case his plan is very simple, and is as 
follows: 

A first hand has been played; the Greek has 
to shuffle; he takes the eleven cards from the table, 
according to rule. 

But in lifting them, he has known how, by a turn 
of the hand, to separate those he sees of one color 
and place them aside, while the others are laid 
under. 


168 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


Suppose the cards picked by him are: 

1. The king of hearts. 

2. The ace of hearts. 

3. The ten of hearts. 

4. The seven of hearts. 

In order that the last of these cards shall be the 
one turned up, and that the others should be in¬ 
cluded in this hand, the Greek has only to place on 
these the first cards to hand to complete the num¬ 
ber eleven. 

He does this easily by a false shuffle. 

After which he breaks the cut, by the bridge or 
by other means as shown in first chapter, and 
deals. 

The Greek has thus given himself the king, the 
ace, and ten of hearts. As to the two other cards, 
he trusts to chance that they will prove more or less 
favorable. 

To prevent this trick being successfully per¬ 
formed. it is necessary, when one suspects the good 
faith of an opponent, to watch the taking up of the 
cards, and to especially examine that those which 
have been used in the previous hand do not reap¬ 
pear m his hand. 


LANSQUENT CONCEALED CARDS. 


169 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

LANSQUENT CONCEALED CARDS. 

This trick is the simplest and at the same time 
the most dangerous of all those described in this 
work; and the execution is, unfortunately, very 
easy. 

It is a question of the Greek placing in the pack, 
at the moment he holds it, a series of cards called 
portee, which should lead to several opportunities 
of remaking. 

These hidden cards are composed of ten cards, 
and are arranged, for example, in the following 


manner: 

1. Queen. 

6. 

Nine. 

2. 

Queen. 

7. 

Nine. 

3. 

Ten. 

8. 

Ace. 

4. 

Seven. 

9. 

Eight. 

5. 

Ten. 

10. 

Ace. 


When the portee is exhausted, the Greek passes 
the hand that contains the others. 

This is how the portees are placed on the sharp¬ 
er’s person to enable him to easily take them. 

To understand this trick, it is necessary to take 
off the Greek’s coat. As in the figure below, two 
pockets, called costieres, are made in the waistcoat, 
on the left side. 

When the Greek waits his turn to take the hand, 
he negligently leans on the table, and in that posh 
tion his fingers find themselves as near as possible to 
his portees. 



170 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


At the right moment he grasps the concealed 
cards, takes them out, as described in chapter ix., 
and places them on the pack. 

The action is made invisible, because the Greek 
wears a coat buttoned high, so that by the assistance 



of the opening below he introduces his hand, which 
is completely hidden. 

Some Greeks are clever enough to take from the 
pack some cards, which they place in their costieres 
for the next hand; others, again, keep them cleverly 
hidden in the hand, to place them at an opportune 
moment in the pack. 

The cards, by this plan, are not increased. 






GAMES FOR FOUR PLAYERS. 


171 


CHAPTER XXX. 

OBSERVATION ON GAMES FOR FOUR PLAYERS. 

One would doubtless think.that in games for 
bur a Greek could not arrange his plans for cheat- 
ng, because the cards he must deal are taken up 
md shuffled by another person. 

I must recall to the reader’s recollection that 
n a certain chapter of this work I have already 
^iven him a summary explanation on this point; 

will now complete it. 

At the game of bouillote, for instance, the Greek 
mites himself with an accomplice whom he places 
Lear him. While collecting and shuffling the cards, 
his one arranges a trickery for the next hand. 

The trick cannot arouse suspicion, because it 
3 not the Greek dealing who performs it, but his 
onfederate. 

The two gentlemen, in addition, pretend to be 
trangers to each other. 

Besides this trick, and without the necessity of 
n accomplice, there are other—for all games for 
our players—artifices and ruses to be employed by 
Ireeks, and which are all drawn from the general 
•rinciples which I have named. 

Another Observation. 

I have sometimes heard it said that it is impos- 
ible for a Greek to exercise his industry in high 
ircles, because he would be so keenly watched. 

Doubtless a Greek in a large reunion—we will 
appose for ecarte—with vividly interested specta- 








172 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


tors, would hesitate to break the cut, draw the cards, 
etc. But are not there other ruses that he can 
employ without fear of detection ? 

Marked cards, for instance. Cannot he arrange 
with one of the servants, with whom he will share 
the spoil, on condition of his handing him the cards 
before they are used by the players ? 

Is not telegraphing also equally practicable un¬ 
der the severest scrutiny? 

Besides, to repeat what I said at the commence¬ 
ment of this work, the Greek of fashionable life 
possesses a tact and intelligence which places him 
in sympathy with his surroundings, and when he 
decides to cheat he does so with excellent conditions 
of success. If he does not hazard conjuring tricks 
before many observers he knows very well how to® 
use them in quiet games and with players whose 
perceptive powers he has carefully analyzed and 
weighed. 

Far from me, however, is the thought that the 
are scoundrels engaged in play everywhere. I b 
lieve, on the contrary, that there are certain clul 
and societies that have never included a rasca 
Greek. But is even that fact a reason why, soono, 
or later, a Greek should not exercise there his cheat¬ 
ing tricks? 




AMUSING TRICKERIES. 


173 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

AMUSING TRICKERIES. 

In the preceding chapters I have cited examples 
»f serious tricks performed by Greeks. I will now 
>resent to the reader a series of tricks which I term 
musing, because they are like those of a con- 
urer who, while amusing the spectator, at the same 
ime shows him how easy it is to be the dupe of 
uch displays. 

Let us return to the preceding trick at piquet, 
phich we will now expose in a more pleasant man¬ 
ner. 

The conjurer has in his hand, we said: 

1. Ten, six of spades. 

2. Ten, four, ace. 

1 3. Ten, four, king. 

The opponent has the cards; it is for him to 
peak: he announces ten, six, queen; because liav- 
lg power to see sequence in three suits, it is proba¬ 
le that one will succeed. 

\ ‘ ‘ Six cards, ’ ’ he says. 

“What are they?” 

\ “Fifty-four.” 

“That is not enough. Is that all you declare?” 
“Yes, because it is probable that my three queens 
re no good.” 

“That is so!” 

You then place on the table your ten six major, 
lad say: 

j “Sixteen and six twenty-two, and ten four kings, 
Showing them), “ninety-six, and fourteen ace one 




174 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


hundred and ten. ’ ’ These two fourteens have been 
kept in the left hand. 

I should here parenthetically give an explanation 
necessary to the comprehension of what follows. 
While continuing the exposition and the counting 
of a game of piquet, we are secretly preparing a 
trick at ecarte to be accomplished after this game. 

Let us resume the account we have left; one 
hundred and ten point, we said; hundred and 
eleven, you say in taking the nine of spades of your 
ten six to place it on one side, hundred and twelve, 
in placing ten above, and, continuing to count, yon 
do the same for the four other cards, with the dif¬ 
ference that, when you are at the king, you place 
the ace before him, so that it shall be found the 
last of the pack. 

In finishing your count, you place on the six 
cards the three kings and the three aces, which 
make one hundred and twenty-three, which added 
to forty for trump make one hundred and sixty- 
three. 

The pack not being used, the cards unshuffled, 
it is very easy, with the little preparatory task I 
have described, to arrange the following trick. 


ECARTE. 


175 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

ECARTE. 

Pleasant Game of Ecarte. 

After the disposition of the cards shown in the 
preceding trick, you have in hand six spades, three 
kings, and three aces; these you place on the pack. 

Then, with apparent indifference, you take three 
cards from those placed aside that you have near 
you, and you put them under the two top cards; 
then, by a false shuffle, you make pass on the top 
two cards from the bottom of the pack. 

This arrangement results in the following order 
of the cards: 

Two indifferent cards. 

Two spades. 

Three indifferent cards. 

Four spades, of which a king should serve as 
turning card. 

Then following three kings and three aces. 

The manipulation of the cards indicated above 
is made while talking, and without declared inten¬ 
tion of continuing to play. 

Then you place the pack on the table. 

‘ ‘ See, ’ ’ you say, ‘ ‘ the danger there is in playing 
cards. A Greek talks pleasantly, and, by the means 
you have described, empties your purse. Let us see, 
do not you know a game for two ? Ecarte, for in¬ 
stance.’ ’ 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Well, then, let us plaj r at ecarte.” 

They take the arranged pack, a false shuffle fol- 


176 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


lows, then a false cut, and the cards are dealt. 

‘ * I turn up king, ’ ’ you say; ‘ ‘ here it is, and my 
hand is full of trumps.” 

You then throw down, one after the other, the 
five cards, saying, trump, trump,” etc. 
Continuation of the Game. Another pleasant Trick. 

“The flush and the king, I mark three points; 
you make the cards” (you hand the cards to your 
opponent, and at the same time take five or six 
cards which you conceal in the hand, as shown in 
ch. viii., Fig. 13). 

Your opponent shuffles the cards, and in order 
that he should not perceive the diminution of the 
pack, you amuse him with an animated conversa¬ 
tion of this kind: 

“Have you, sir, any taste for conjuring?” 

“I believe not.” 

“So much the worse, because I would have 
shown you a trick.” 

“Show it me all the same.” 

“With pleasure; but, before doing so, it will be 
necessary for you to practice for a year at breaking 
the cut,” etc., etc. 

Your opponent then devotes himself to cutting 
and shuffling. In taking the cards he has given 
you, you place on them those you have taken, hav¬ 
ing care to hold all these for an instant pressed 
together. 

“But, sir,” you exclaim, “tell me what game 
are we playing ? ’ ’ 

“At ecarte, it appears to me.” 

“How! at ecarte! Then why do you give me 
so many cards?” You then spread all your cards 
out side by side. 

“Who deals badly loses the hand,” you say, 
casting a rapid glance at the cards displayed. 




ECARTE. 


177 


Yon have noticed in the eleven or twelve cards 
the dominant suit, that I will suppose to be hearts; 
you choose four, and as amongst these cards, as the 
reader will recall, are the three kings and three 
aces, you join the king and ace of hearts to those 
four cards, and pass them under the pack. 

After that, by a manipulation similar to that 
indicated for the piquet trick, you place on the 
pack, while pretending to shuffle: 

1. Four cards below. 

2. Three indifferent cards in the middle. 

3. Two cards below. 

4. Two indifferent cards. 

The pack should then be thus arranged: 

Eleven cards prepared, viz.: 

1. Two false cards. 

2. Two hearts. 

3 Three false cards. 

4. Three hearts. 

5. A heart for turn-up. 

You make a false shuffle, then a false cut, and 
deal the cards. 

“I just now turned up the king,” you say to 
yourself while dealing the cards. *‘I will keep it 
this time in the pack.” 

You mark and score the point, and the game is 
won. 



178 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

TRICK AT ECARTE. 

In which you make your opponent win. 

As I have said before, while turning over the 
cards you choose a ten six major of any suit; these 
you place under the pack, and you make pass suc¬ 
cessively above in the order following: 

1. A card below. 

2. Three false cards in the middle. 

3. Three false cards below. 

4. Two false cards in the middle. 

5. Two cards below. 

A false shuffle and cut. Deal the cards first by 
twos, then by threes. 

In the arrangement of your cards, the king must 
not be placed to make it the turn-up card. 




ANOTHER TRICK AT ECARTE. 


179 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


ANOTHER TRICK AT ECARTE. 


n which the opponent loses a bet he made sure of 
winning on seeing part of the dealer’s hand. 


Place on the pack eleven cards, viz.: 


6. Nine of hearts. 


1. Queen of hearts. 

2. Ace of hearts. 

3. King of hearts. 

4 . Knave of hearts, 

5. Ten of hearts. 


7. King of diamonds. 


8. Seven of hearts. 

9. Seven of clubs. 

10. Seven of spades, 


11. Eight of hearts. 


Make afterwards a false shuffle, a false cut, and 
,eal by twos and threes. 

The following will be the division of the oards: 


THE ADVERSARY. 
Queen of hearts, 
Ace of hearts. 
Ten of hearts. 
Nine of hearts. 


THE DEALER. 

King of hearts. 
Knave of hearts, 
Seven of hearts. 
Seven of spades. 
Seven of clubs. 



, Turn-up card, eight of hearts. 

“Good heavens,” you will exclaim, in displaying 
in the table the three sevens of your hand, “what 
niserable cards!” You take care, however, not to 
imw your king and knave of hearts. 

“Nevertheless,” you add, “I have a chance, and 
t is not impossible for me to win the game.” 

It is certain that your opponent with so good a 
land will fall into the trap, and bet that he will 





CARD-SHARPERS. 


win. He plays confidently; but whatever is his 
manner of playing he cannot avoid losing three 
points of the game, because two of his trumps must 
fall on your small cards, and your seven of trumps 
may parry the attack of his king of diamonds; you 
having in hand, to finish the game, what is vulgarly 
called the fourchette. 



BACCARAT. 


181 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


BACCARAT. 


Game of Baccarat profitable to the banker. 

You place under the pack sixteen cards in the 
blowing order: 


6. A court card. 11. An eight. 

7. A nine. 12. An ace. 

8. A court card. 13. An eight. 

9. An eight. 14. An ace. 

10. An ace. 15. An eight. 


A nine. 

A court card. 
A nine. 

A court card. 
A nine. 


16. An ace. 


Arrangement. 


Pass successively under the pack sixteen times: 

1. The last card. 

2. Two false cards. 

3. The last card. 

4. Two false cards, in this order. 

False cut and deal one at a time. 

The banker will have at first at each hand nine or 
ineteen and gain thus on the bridges at right and 


This demonstration of amusing trickery at bac- 
irat is only given as a specimen. The reader will 
ie that a Greek would not dare to win so many 
mes, and especially by first hands. 






182 


CARD-SHARPERS s 


I 


CHAPTER XXXYI. 

WHIST. 

Game of Whist in which the adversaries lose ever% 
trick. 

You place on the pack thirteen cards of the sam< 
suit, and, in order to arrange them by a false shuf¬ 
fle, you adopt the following plan: 

1. Having taken thirteen cards in the right hand 
make the last slip on to the packet of thirty-nine 
others that you hold in your left hand. 

2. Place rapidly that card with the three follow¬ 
ing on the packet in the right hand. 

3. Now make the last of that packet glide on 
that in the left hand, and proceed as before to make 
it pass with the three others on the top of the 
pack. 

Continue thus until the packet in the left hand 
is exhausted. 

This false shuffle is a perfect illusion. 

False cut and deal. 

With, three trumps in the hand the dealer musl 
inevitably make the odd trick. 

Game of Whist in which each player has thirteen 
cards of one suit, which does not prevent tht 
dealer making the trick. 

All the cards should be arranged by spades, 
hearts, clubs, diamonds, without there being any 
necessity to distinguish them according to value. 


BACCARAT. 


183 


Make a false shuffle, and give them to be cut 
ithout fear of seeing your combination upset. 
Deal them singly. 

After the deal each one will have a sequence of 
lirteen cards. Only that of the dealer will have 

11 trumps, 






184 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

BOUILLOTTE. 

A Square Game. 

Place under the pack four similar cards, other 
wise called a square game. 

Then, to classify them, pass in succession on the 
pack. 

1. The two last cards. 

2. Three false cards. 

3. The last card. 

4. Three false cards. 

5. The last card. 

6. Three false cards. 

False shuffle, false cut, and deal. 

You have four similar cards in your hand, while 
your adversary has only those given him by 
chance; which, in any case, cannot equal your 
hand. 

Game of Bouillotte, where one wins after forcing 
his adversary to play. 

Place under the pack thirteen cards, viz.: 

1. Four nines. 

2. Three queens. 

3. Three kings. 

4. Three aces. 

Then place on the pack: 


BOUILLOTTE. 


185 


2. The third, the sixth, and the ninth before 
lie last. 

3. The last. 

4. The second, the fourth, and the sixth before 
lie last. 

5. The four last. 

False shuffle, false cut, and deal. 

Each player possesses four cards of one kind, 
diich inspires him with the expectation of win¬ 
ing. 

It is not, therefore, astonishing that each one 
lays; but as the dealer has a sequence of four, 
e has the advantage over his adversaries. 



186 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

BEZIQUE. 

A curious Game of Bezique, in which, with one 
pack of thirty-two cards, you make by the first 
hand five hundred and thirty-two points, while 
the opponent makes none. 

This game is very amusing, and deserves to be 
well displayed. And we purpose doing so after the 
cards are cut. 

Place below the pack seventeen cards in the 
following order: 

1. Ten of hearts. 

2. Ten of clubs. 

3. Ten of diamonds. 

4. King of hearts. 

5. King of clubs. 

6. King of diamonds. 

7. Ace of hearts. 

8. Ace of clubs. 

9. Ace of diamonds. 

Arrangement under pretence of shuffling. 
Pass successively on the pack: 

1. The five last cards (spades). 

2. Three indifferent cards. 

3. Three cards from below (spades). 

4. Three indifferent cards. 

The above arrangement should serve for the 
dealing of the two packs; it remains now to arrange 


10. Ace of spades. 

11. Bang of spades. 

12. Queen of spades. 

13. Knave of spades. 

14. Ten of spades. 

15. Nine of spades. 

16. Seven of spades. 

17. Eight of spades. 


BEZIQUE. 


187 


the cards placed on one side in such a way that 
by a successive drawing, the cards you require to 
win the game with will fall into your hand. For 
that purpose it is necessary to alter the form of 
false shuffle and continue thus: 

1. Take in your right hand the fourteen top 
cards which have been arranged on the pack. 

2. Hold in the left hand the rest of the pack 
between the thumb and the four fingers; then cause 
to glide successively under the packet in the right 
hand: 

1. With the thumb of the left hand, the card at 
the top of the packet. 

2. With the four fingers of the same hand, the 
card at bottom of the same packet. 

3. With the thumb of the left hand, the card 
above, and in succession the rest of the packet in 
same order. 

To manage the false shuffle, that is to be assured 
you are not misled, the pack should terminate by 
a ten. 

The cards should therefore be in the following 
order: 

1. Three false cards. 

2. Three good cards. 

3. Three false cards. 

4. Three good cards. 

5. Seven of spades (the turn-up card). 

6. Eight of spades. 

7. False card. 

8. Ace of hearts. 

9. False card. 

And in this order for the aces, the three kings 
and the three tens, which should each be separated 
by indifferent cards. 


188 


CARD-SHARPERS. 


False cut and deal by threes. 

“When bezique was first invented,” you say to 
your opponent, “people played five hundred with 
one hand of piquet, and that was in defiance of 
the small number of cards, of which each player 
only had six in his hand. 

‘ ‘ Let us play in that way, to be completely with¬ 
in the rules of the game.” • 

You deal: three, three, three, three, you say, and 
turn up a seven, and mark ten points. 10 

The dealer has in his hand ten six major 
in spades. 

“Allow me to mention, sir, before looking 
at my hand, that whatever be the card you 
may please to play, I cut it by the nine of 
trumps, in order to mark a marriage in that 
suit.” 

You take your hand. 

“Just so; I cut and mark forty. 

“I now take from the reserve cards eight 
of trumps, with which I cut to mark my two 
hundred and fifty. 250 

‘ ‘ I still require two hundred points to win. 

Let me see! What would be the most rapid 
plan? One hundred for ace would be the 
thing. I take an ace.”...You play ace in 
order to be the first to draw, and at each 
draw you say: then another... etc.... then 
at last the fourth. .. .“This must be the ace 
of. ... ” (As each ace has been named before 
drawing, you can name the suit of the last 
by that you have left). 

“I score one hundred. 100 

‘ ‘ Let us see now about eighty of kings. 

“Yes, here is one. ..and another. ..etc... 
then the fourth. I mark eighty. 


80 


BEZIQUE, 


189 


“Kindly note, sir, that I informed you that I 
could score five hundred without your making one 
point; now, if you had broken them, you could 
count. I will take them to avoid giving you that 
trouble.” (You draw them successively.) 

“The turn-up is by right yours; but in order 
that it may not injure me, I play trump to take it 
from you, and I remain master of the game.” 

Thus, therefore, ten for the last and forty for 
the break make fifty, which, united to the four 
hundred and eighty, make five hundred and thirty. 

You should understand that during this game 
you must win each hand to be always in the con¬ 
dition of drawing. 

If this game is difficult to execute, it has the 
advantage of being very brilliant and of producing 
a certain and surprising effect. 







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